National Disaster
I drowned myself in the bathtub
on the day that no one
knew my name, no longer
the day I woke up when
I belonged to nothing,
not a single heart.
Room lit, thousands of candles
floor, ceiling, walls
I held my head under.
the water overflowed, poured out
flooded the house,
streets, the whole city underwater
people lost homes
women lost babies
children got lost
government declared
++++++++++++National Disaster
++++++we were in it together
++++++or so they claimed.
My body
was found and burnt
at the peak of the highest mountain
my body was found guilty of treason
my ashes flew far
++++++and the flood dried
children were found
++++++and wombs bore fruit again
new stones were laid
homes built
++++++meaning given
I was reborn
as an olive tree,
which fed the city
for five
++++++thousand
++++++++++++years.
Bio:
Mariam Saidan is a Specialist Advocate for Women’s Rights and has worked as a Children’s Rights Advocate, studied Human Rights Law at Nottingham Universality and Creative Writing at University of Kent. She was born in London, and has lived in Iran, France, and the UK. She wrote her first journal at 8 years old while travelling with her family in Iran during the Iran-Iraq war. Her recent publications can be found at Ink Sweat and Tears, The Bombay Review and Literally Stories.