Not yet worthy

31 years old moss-covered headstone
"She was funny"; engraved in Times New Roman 79.
Why 79?
Perfectly functioning Brown eyes that flare in cold fluorescents.
Not Gray or green or hazel but why?
Half a dozen suitors who wouldn't ever stop wooing.
Isn't two enough?
One immortal Calico.
Has to be. IT HAS TO BE.
Three Pitbulls; eyes like green lanterns.
Lanterns–not fireflies though.
An almost-losing game turned into a win.
A game called everything and nothing and Life after Death and whatnot.
A brain without any traces of Ambien and Lamotrigine and Wellbutrin and more.
Can be considered…this!
A memory that remembers all the bad as good
No comment on this; just because…!!!
A brain caffeinated starting from Ante Meridian 8 to 11 PM
&
Right wrist without Carpal Tunnel Syndrome
(or a wrist brace would be okay as well)
A life without what-ifs and buts and would've beens and could've beens
or that Headstone is acceptable for us too
Because compromise is in our blood.
A wedding that never existed then turned into a divorce.
We don't talk about that no more…a nightmare.
799 pages of constant dark humour 
and self-roasting out of insecurities 
which ends up in a best-selling memoir
still wouldn't be enough to remove our Imposter Syndrome
and we will write write write until we defeat it
and end up living 6ft under with a mossy headstone
"She lost but She was funny" engraved in Arial Narrow 70.
Skin just the way it is without those doodling of self-harm
and memory of colorism in a country full of people
sharing the same skin color…at least 80% of them.
a soul that's one with the one and only omniscient 
carrying memory full of peace and good sweet nothing
but satisfaction and gratitude
"She lost but She was funny and She is Resting in Peace" 
Engraved in whatever fonts The Writer wants; written with invisible ink.

Nayer Sultana connects bridges between poetry and prose. When she's not being her lecturer-self at North South University, she's stitching together a non-fiction memoir that refuses to stay in one genre. Her work wanders through belonging, becoming, and the shifting idea of home.