childhood memories lay scattered
shattered in the kitchen sink
chamin v'salat v'hummus v'pita
chatters and hugs and laughter and cigaretts
the family i once knew stolen away by the ugly world
the world of hate and of greed and of blame and of shame.
how i wish i could forget - become small again - only see the good.
but the ugly truth has been revealed and we have reached the point of no return.
we sit at coffee houses and drink our cappuccinos and pretend everything is the same.
but this is the moment - the final test. which family will survive - the blood or the community?
when we grow up knowing and loving and sharing with a family that is not your own
your whole world is in a spin
blood is essential, but it is bitter and salty and stinks of hate.
so we try to make sense of this fucked up world
piece by piece
like a never-ending four dimensional puzzle
we carry on.
it is all we know.
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