Me, Beirut and suffocation

I can hear my watch ticking next to me

I can hear the music I am playing

I can hear the AC blowing fresh air in my room

But the whistling of the silence in the street I listen to.

                                           In the streets of Beirut, everyone waits.

I cannot see what is happening

I do not want to know

I cannot understand what is happening

I must believe so.

                                           In the city of Beirut, people are confused.

I am ready to leave.

My visa is almost done.

I would like to go

My story has just begun.

                                           In the city of Beirut, identities are mistaken.

To travel, I have to present my passport

I sometimes feel ashamed.

Close to the sea, at the top of the mountains,

But mostly far from the heart.

                                          In the city of Beirut, hatred reigns.

I feel stuck, I cannot breathe

Inhaling disgusting fumes

I smell burning love

I suffocate from its smoke.

                                          In the city of Beirut, candles burn.

I write. I frown.

I read. I share.

I erase.

I cannot tolerate

                                          In the city of Beirut, our thoughts are feared.