by Hana Ghani

how did you do it?

perhaps it was me

i let you foster

crawl and extend your

spindly fingers under my skin

gathered my hollow bones

drained away the blood

made a nest out of my blue body

until the rings of my neck rots green

the crevices of my brain blisters purple like a prune

my eyes hollowed dark like tunnels

that i see nothing but


tucked within the crevices of my brain

a portrait captured in memory

i tried scrubbing you raw

on the lush green grass, you lie and linger

as if you’re there to bloom among the roses

i couldn’t uproot you

the purple velvet coat hugs your body like royalty

the vast blue sky frames you perfectly

i let you fester

perhaps it was me

how did you do it?



Hana Ghani is a sister, a friend and an inspiring writer from Brunei Darussalam.

Fester Foster.png