A Stitched Life

By Nouran Azzam

On my dry, crusty lashes are the memory of every tear I shed, of every pain I felt,

Every person I longed for and grieved,

And every version of myself I could never become.

On my left index finger is a small white scar,

Flesh removed

From when I had an accident with an X-Acto knife,

Crafting, building, stitching a model for scenic design.

A classmate rushed to bandage my bleeding wound,

And suddenly they were no longer a stoic judge

But now a nursing soul.

On my chin

Is a small depression

From where I had a giant bump

In my childhood chicken pox days.

I thought I was growing pubescent at the time,

So, I put on my helmet

To go to war with myself.

On my nose

Are blackheads and bumps,

Reminders of my shame,

Reminders

Of that one time I thought I looked like a witch

Or when this one girl told me I need to try to look

More beautiful.

There are no holes in my earlobes because our father couldn’t bear

To see his daughters cry from a needle puncturing their skin for aesthetics.

But we got needles, alright.

Many needles; vaccines to quench our parents’ fears,

Leaving a scar on my arm.

In my mind, I hear screaming / From when my sister and I / Continuously ran away / From our mother’s slipper. / Comedic to some, / But tragic to us.

My left heel has an inflamed

Ligament, a supposed mediator of bones

But now an adversary hindering my every move,

A reminder of my poor health, as I watch everyone around me

Walk on air.

My cuticles: the victims of my constant, compulsive scratching. I scratched them

To appease the voices.

My thinning hair,

A constant disappointment to me,

But now a child I love dearly.

I gave it vibrant colors, spa sessions, and a repair in a torn relationship.

My heart.

Poke it once,

And the chambers tear at the stitches.

Poke it twice, and your finger is drenched in blood.

The blood with memories of a child

Abandoned on her birthday,

Waiting for her mother

To show up for once.

Poke this heart again,

And you’ll have four gooey chambers

In your palms, and the blood will

Fill up the creases on your skin,

Illuminating in red

Your heart line,

Life line,

Love line –

Is there no love line?

My teeth,

Collecting dust in a cup

In a dimly lit bathroom.

Countless medical visits.

Pain with no gain.

My spirit

About to be killed

At the age of seventeen

When my soul slowly

Found its way out between 

The patches of my life.

But I stitched and stitched some more

So it had nowhere to go.

The biggest chasm, perhaps, is the one between body and mind. Then I met Yoga.

I used to fight demons alone. 

Shadows that slither their way into the cracks of my skull –

Yoga told me,

“Danger where there is none.”

A fragmented mind where internal family systems taught me that there are no bad parts and that I can find safety in my body again when I give my child what it needs. A hug, reassurance, love, warmth, and a home.

My arms,

Smooth but were once not going to be.

Stitched well

But were once not going to be.

Kept me alive,

But were once not going to.

Kept the blood underneath

But were once not going to.

Shame and blame

Ride in a train

To tell me in vain

That I will lose my veins.

Can I hook my fingers together

And call them pals?

Can I clap my hands

And call it a celebration?

Can I pinch my skin

And call it self-regulation?

Can I cry my eyes out

And say it was all for… nothing?

Choked laughter, fragmented by salty tears, and a ruddy face meet me in my mind’s eye

And suddenly I realize that no life is infrangible,

We are all pieces,

We are all Matryoshkas.

We all try to build the giant foam puzzles laid out in children’s playrooms, like carpets for little feet to walk on, not fearing the cold hard floor beneath. 

I clasp my hands together,

One hand a starry night sky,

The other a sunny blue,

And I make them lovers.

To love the body

Is to meet the body

Where it’s at.

Thank you, yoga, for teaching me to slow down. Thank you, fellow nurse, for healing my wound. Thank you, lashes, for holding my teardrops.

Thank you, heart, for your resilience.

Above all,

I watch as my mind and body

Slowly circle one another,

Celestial spheres

Composing harmonious

Music.

Musica universalis.

But they never touch.

They never heal.

One day,

One day,

Lovers will unite

In eternity.