Coffin
In the rotten grave,
I rise every night
in the same weary way of my life.
Dealing with my selfish rhymes
and silent cries;
of sorrow, pain, and solitude.
Where in my grave,
set in stone is the life
I did not choose to live.
Here in my bed,
is where I lay.
In my dreams,
a funeral takes place.
Held for the lonesome girl
in the coffin,
whose myth chanted
questions of existence.
In my sacred body,
are memories woven
by unwanted pleasantries.
My soul floats
among the wind
which ruffles the hair
of those who think of me
distant from the grave.
Buried in dirt and love;
dead by your death.
Note: Hello! I wrote this poem thinking about how symbolic the word “coffin” is, which ultimately became the prompt that guided me through writing this piece.
My name is Jafiyah, and I am a proud Filipino! However, I grew up in the UAE as my parents were both Overseas Filipino Workers, a common path taken by many Filipinos in hopes to provide a better life for their families. I was only one of the lucky children who actually got to join them. Despite living abroad, I grew up to be immersed in the Filipino language, cuisine, culture, and people. Growing up in the Middle East as a Pinay was an experience I would never trade for anything.
If you’re still reading, check out my other poems! Hehe
Jafiyah, 2023
Filipina writer
