I don’t go carving up Hades on people’s faces anymore, digging up the skulls from the soils of their haven just so i could be the one that saves them. Instead, i let my own two hands be carved by the labor of my soil, that with grace, i may turn it into some of sort of Eden. That way whenever I shake hands with a person i would rest assured that i gave them the best of what i had to offer, that i only had what’s best to offer.
We all have our hells that’s for sure, they’re not there to frighten us because  nothing preaches the sweet sensation of water like a quenching thirst and water, well water was a drop of human connection.
A drop is where you and I both stand and none of our faces hide behind the others’. Here, I contemplate myself so I would see you better and cherish us both. And swiftly the drop lives up to its name and we find ourselves scattered in each other and on everything else. My hope is that when we’re in a million pieces, i would still be able to find my way to myself and there, I’d stretch my arms naively, roaring at the abyss through a whisper to the Face of faces.

Eddy Abi Younes