Scrabble

Scrabble

written by: Sara Ali

 

When the day feels heavy, and shadows grow long,
When words of despair fill the mind’s silent song,
I turn to the letters, scattered and free,
And watch as they form what I struggle to see.

Each tile I pick is a chance to create,
A way to unburden the feelings I hate.
From chaos and jumbles, I find something new,
An anchor to hold, a way to push through.

Blank spaces invite me, no pressure, no rush,
No score for perfection, no need to hush.
Just an “H” and an “O,” followed by “P” —
Suddenly, hope is as plain as can be.

Every word is a bridge from silence to sound,
A ladder I climb when I’m lost underground.
Building these worlds from fragments I choose,
Gives me control when there’s so much to lose.

It’s a puzzle of solace, of purpose, of place,
Where letters fit together like memories trace.
And slowly the weight in my chest starts to lift,
For each word I find is a small healing gift.

So, I’ll rearrange letters, again and again,
From sorrow to solace, from numbness to gain.
For in Scrabble, I’m more than just lost in a game—
I’m finding myself, reclaiming my name.