Eulogy for a Girl I once knew

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that corpses once had colour in them, too.

When you see them, you are reminded only of death- of poignant endings, and pain, and longing. You think of the spaces they once filled, the people, the things, they left behind. But you rarely ever remember the tinges of colour in their skin. In your mind, the memories you hold of them will become tarnished, distorted by the image of a pallid face, unperturbed by the woes of this world, relishing in an eternal slumber.

Rest in peace.

I am mourning for a girl I once knew. Her eyes were bright and filled with hope, her entire body a crevice filled with laughter. She convinced herself that all troubles were temporary, that permanence lay only in peace. She was untouched by cynicism and suspicion; flowers were the only things that grew on the sturdy bridges between each of her synapses.

But slowly, it seemed that they began to shrivel up and retreat into the darkness. It became tiring, keeping up with the urban cacophony of the world- of kind acts unreturned, and good intentions taken for granted.

Rest in peace.

I am mourning for the girl whose face once belonged to me, before she was moulded by sharp words and regrettable experiences- they suffocated the girl that I once knew, until, eventually, she collapsed into herself.

Rest in peace.

They made me mourn for a former version of myself, and now I am growing further into this surviving scripture of my soul, torn mercilessly away from the other, existing as an echo of its own past, evidence of a melody that has long since faded.

Sometimes it is hard, and I long to have her back. I dig away at the dirt, searching, searching, but the loose granules of soil sift through my fingertips like water.

Now all I can do is sit here, reciting a eulogy, to a part of me that has, for a long time now, ceased to exist.

Rest in peace.

And when you wake up, I will be waiting here to greet you like an old friend.

Sadia Ahmed, 2017

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