You reek of sin,
a bloody stench capable of
making one nauseous;
sometimes, even me,
but its effect doesn’t last long
as I’m always quick to forget,
having learned to skillfully
mask it by the impalpable perfume
of your unfair justifications,
in the vain hope that it will
not just cover up but eliminate
the deep guilt I feel inside;
but, it only intoxicates you further.
I can see evil obvious in my eyes
that shine brightly
in your growing darkness.
The superficial look of innocence
on my face is in sinister contrast
to your undisguised ugly thoughts.
I am aware of the grotesque reality
of your transgressions
that weigh heavily on my chest,
forming dark spots on my heart.
Every sin like a cut on my wrist,
Slicing through my skin,
deep enough to peirce you.
It shakes us from within,
messes up our system,
But we smile through the pain,
Like we ain’t feelin nothin.
Shame is the medicine
we traded in for sin, our drug.
I wonder what’s next..
What’s next, nafsi?
* * *
Nafs is the Arabic word for soul, nafsi translates to “my soul”.