haadi

metaphorically dead, as the poets say.

[byhaadi]

The kitchen remembers every woman who swallowed her anger to keep the food warm.

©byhaadi — Haadi Dar

[byhaadi]

mother, when i die— will my room stay the same or will you finally open the windows and let me leave? tell me, mother—how long does a child stay in a house after his death?

©byhaadi— Haadi Dar

[byhaadi]

Mother, i think i have been waiting to be understood in the same way you were never understood. Tell me mother—will you listen to me if i speak to you?

© byhaadi—Haadi Dar

[byhaadi]

sometimes i wonder if mothers remember the weight of their children the way children remember the warmth of their mothers’ arms.

[byhaadi]

Few pieces me, to you

[byhaadi]

Few pieces me, to you