Scrambled

POV of a Child from a Broken Family

Hi everyone!

I know it’s been a while. These past few days have been the hardest of my life. I was in the ICU, and after being discharged, there was a recommendation for me to undergo sessions in therapeutic seclusion.. something my family, of course, did not approve of.

I’m doing much better now, and during my healing days, I received some wonderful news. my poem won 2nd place in a poetry competition. My sincere thanks and gratitude go to the judges of the challenge.

I wanted to share this poem here as well, because it comes from a real place…born out of many of our own circumstances and lived experience.

It is based on the theme of “Scrambled Eggs.”

Copyright © 2025 Sanya Kurd

We clamped together, then mom got sick.
She couldn’t make breakfast, only screamed.
Dad took on the job, made everything work,
His wrinkles etched deeper as he stirred the pot.

Love drifted away, perched on a cloud of gloom.
They only fought, while we hid in our rooms.
I whispered secrets to my pillow, my only friend,
Soaked my tears deep, like earth swallows rain.

Mom taught me how to cook it whole,
But never said how to unscramble the folds.
Everyone vanished from the photo frame,
Like a crime scene before the shot was fired.

Now, we live out in the sun,
While grief rests in our home.
Scattered like beads of a sacred braid,
Each strand distant–a constellation of feuds.

I try to merge them with patterns and muse,
Like a tapestry of love-
undoing the devil’s work.
making it pure, like my mother’s womb.

But grief lingers like an unwanted ghost.
My measured attempts always fail.
Because each room of this house,
cradles their arguments in its bones.

The eggs are scrambled…completely ravaged.
No way I feel—I’ll reverse the damage.

It’s like collecting shards of a broken chandelier.
Each piercing my fingers, dripping blood,
Poisoning my confidence,
mutilating my soul in silence.

This broken family injures my memory
with the machete of trauma.
Still, I carry a figment of light in me,
To stitch the cracks in this ruptured sky
With the thread of hope and mercy,
So I can finally rest beneath my bed..
And sigh.

-Sanyaa

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Or you can donate me through PayPal. Much easier and as per your convenience.

I am currently working on three books, one of which is a novel. I'd need some funds to take them to the market because I’m trying to do it on my own.

1. Novel (Misery of June).

2. Poetry Book (topics will include Mental Health, Family Struggles, Metaphysics, Connections, Love and many more).

3. My third book delves into the complexities of mental health, spirituality, and the questions that shape us (different philosophical perspectives).

I'd be very grateful if you supported me.

Payment is via PayPal and the account is registered on my trusted friend (username: thehumblehee) because stripe doesn't work in my country. I took their help. They will send it back to me through IBAN.

How to Donate:

I have attached their PayPal account in the link below. If you want to support me, then click on the link and send me some love through PayPal.

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Do check out My Novel

It is based on the story of June, a 21-year-old Lebanese-Iranian girl, who feels caged by the conservative traditions of her village. She breathes freely only through her words—her poetry. After the death of her mother, Mira, she wrestles with deep loneliness, until she connects with someone who changes the way she thinks about life… without even meeting her.

Read more from me!

They Hide From You

The Silence of The Skies

Dad! Don’t Marry Me

Rage

Thank you so much for your time and prayers. I am much better now!

If you’re considering to donate, then that thought alone means the world to me. Truly :)