I close my eyes.
Shut them real tight.
So I can escape,
This world,
This space,
This confinement.
I remember:
Red balloons,
My daughters sweet face.
And I question -was travesty meant to be my fate?
Lies
Loss of life.
Loss of humanity.
Prisoner.
Enemy.
They have taught everyone to hate me.
 Guantanamo:
Where the birds cry when they sing love songs.
How come they keep saying I am guilty?
I remember how they took away my name.
Assigned me a number.
They put a black hood over my face and took away my identity.
They kicked and pushed me.
Stripped me.
Searched me.
But even though I have been through all of this crap,
I am still me.
Hanging on this slight memory.
I am still me.
I will not let it fade into nothingness.
Even with all the bruises.
I am still me.
And broken dreams.
I am still me.
And tears that can fill rivers.
I’m still me.
And the only reason I am alive is because of you.
Your memory.
Your sweet face.
Forces me to survive.
My precious,
Wife.
You’re like a guiding light, in this darkened state.
I gaze at your face in my fragmented dreams.
I stare at you intensely, so I can memorize your features.
I’m trying to survive.
But with these false promises.
Kangaroo courts.
Judges who won’t adhere to justice.
Where is democracy?
In a country that promises freedom?
Advocates for human rights.
I am innocent.
I don’t deserve to be abused.
I am a silent warrior.
Yet I love to speak.
But here, there are attempted suicides and dead bodies.
People who can no longer survive,
The innocent blood that flows,
Is red.
But remember our blood is the same colour.
Bruises heal,
I am still me.
But this psychological pain glows red sports.
Quranic verses that we have memorized like our own heart beat.
I bow down and pray to Allah to keep me alive.
I have a reason to live.
Even though love seems so far away.
In a place that seems to have been invented to cause pain and murder systematically.
What is resistance to this dehumanization?
It’s to:
To witness.
To remember
To live.
To fight for others.
To pass on this story.
It has become your responsibility to remember me.
You are my storyteller.
You carry my memory.
It happens sometimes we want to forget because the pain is too much.
But please remember, for me.
In remembering we attempt to survive.
In telling others, we try to heal.                 
Guantanamo needs to be closed.
Promises made need to be kept.

So:
Promise, you won’t forget me.
Promise that you will try to get to know me before you simply cast a label upon me.
Remember me, promise?