I was born in September

on the 19th to be exact

to a mother with almond eyes

and a father who could sing the blues

 

I was born in September

in the late hours of the night

As the wind crept through the window

my parents held me and stared at the moonlight

 

I was born in September

but not early enough in the month

which made me younger than my peers

forcing me to be tough

 

I was born in September

always looking forward to autumn

to count the color of the leaves

a representation of my moods of solemn

 

I was born in September

Life was never secure

Judged for the color of my skin

Massive humiliation I endured

 

I was born in September

Same month I chose to be Muslim

A deal locked and sealed

Forever I was to be with Him

 

I was born in September

You thought I was taking about Allah?

I was talking about a being He created

AstaghfiruAllah

 

I was born in September

Same month my cousin got married

I was overjoyed for her union

The same dream I carried

 

I was born in September

same month my first born was conceived

I asked Allah to give me a sign that I was pregnant

I stood up and vomited everywhere

In June I birthed a King!

 

I was born in September

somehow I believed I had superpowers

being pregnant every other spring semester

but I continued to bloom flowers

 

I was born in September

Intelligent yet flawed

I never imagined the outcome

I denied my rise and fall

 

I was born in September

Over a decade has been an illusion

a fantasy destined to be compromised

by an unforeseen intrusion

 

I was born in September

my life is not the same

no one seems to understand

for that myself I place the blame

 

I was born in September

Yes I remember

all the memories shared

all the sacrifices

all the diaper changes

all the store runs

all the repairs in the home

countless nights of sick kids

walks at the park

family gatherings

Toronto

Atlanta

late night talks

the movies

sliding in the snow

crazy neighbors

 

Yes I remember. . . .

but I’ve lost it all. . . .

I’ve lost it to September. . . .

Shy of October