Love Letter to Haiti

July 29, 2026

I saw you again today.

This time dancing out of the mouth of a stranger in an unfamiliar street.

He spoke of you loudly 

As you fumbled out from gapped teeth

Between gaps of laughter

And expressions only we know—

You know,

We can’t keep running into each other like this,

Like what happened last week at that party.

Remember how the music felt

How close we were

How you took over my body

For a second there—

I felt you in the sweat dripping down my face and 

Mistook the strobe lights for sunlight.

For a second there —

I thought we were one. 

But then the lights go off.

And it’s cold outside. 

And I forget that eyes don’t sweat,

They cry.

I want to forgive you

For the things you did to me when I was but a child.

I didn’t know that a country’s heart could palpitate.

Tectonic plates deceived us, 

And though you’re not to blame, 

I get jealous when people say your name

Or get to go and see you. 

How you didn’t break them the way you did me in 2010.

They say you’re a beautiful place

But they didn’t know you back then.

I’ve grown up now,

And I broke too.

And in those moments, Haiti,

I see myself in you.

What if we give it a try— 

For old times’ sake.

I’ll come over and speak your language,

And this time my voice won’t shake.

Maybe if we laid together 

For a couple nights, 

My heart won’t break 

When I say your name

Or hear you speak

Or feel you dance

Or see my family

Or see myself.

Since I’ve seen you last 

I haven’t seen myself.

Haiti, please,

Prove to me just once

That it’s not over yet.

 

Mellowdramma is a Haitian-Canadian slam poet based in Montreal. She believes that art is a medicine that allows people to connect with their emotions, others, and the parts of ourselves that rarely see the light.

 

 

 

Featured image by on Unsplash.

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