i'm told that depression is an american thing like owning a dog or talking about your feelings

                    by Jess Rizkallah

​khalas just drink some water,
wear a hat, don’t
forget to floss.
                                     have you ever seen a brain
                                     sprint across concrete,
                                     ​dropping all its teeth?

                                     brains have teeth, you know.
                                     they’re ground to sand while we sleep.
                                     we are hourglasses, top heavy
                                     every morning. all your blood
                                     still lives in your head.
keep it that way.
press your ear to the pillow.
contain the steady marching
soldier living in your head.

                                     it’s my fault he’s there. i thought
                                     if i could catch the body before
                                     it hit the ground, it wouldn’t
                                     break open.

                                     i won’t dissect the bullet sent to kill us.
                                     or the silence just before it tried. it’s enough to
know it didn’t.

do your homework.
practice your arabic.
marry a good man
                                     and if he is lazy
thank God                    violence
                                     takes effort.

baptize your children
                                     in the break of a wave
                                     opening at your feet.
forgive your feet for
every sleeping child
they have stepped over.

cross your head with ash.
say ameen.                              ameen
bring in your plants.
don’t forget to lock
the door.
                                                            the lights passing by are just cars.
(if not, then hold your breath)
                                                            that’s why we came here
(and how we left.)


​
​
​

photo by georgia sparling

​Jess Rizkallah is a Lebanese-American writer and illustrator living in New York. Alumna of Lesley University, MFA candidate at New York University, and founding editor at pizza pi press. Her full length collection THE MAGIC MY BODY BECOMES won the 2017 Etel Adnan Poetry Prize awarded by the Radius of Arab American Writers and is available from University of Arkansas Press. Find her at jessrizkallah.com.