Traditional healer

To be honest My poems are far from me. They are strangers. I meet once a year When I revisit my diary  Sometimes I forget they are there For years, I forget that we’ve met When they were stuck in my throat They expanded as my chakra bloat Existing only when I found a page for my pen to float. Leading in earth to become whatever they’ll quote. The relief caresses me  And my heart thanks me for listening And my head thanks me for doing And my soul thanks me for writing

2 litres of water a day Double cleanse Different products for your nighttime routine Intermittent fast three times a week Do not forget to deworm 11 am brunch and mimosas 15 unread WhatsApp messages Rest. Call in sick But not today There’s a 5pm deadline Proposal edits Warmest regards…. Can you hear me?  You’re on mute.  Are you available for a meeting after this meeting?  Retinol, niacinamide and Vitamin C Moisturise, under-eye, and then sunscreen Use a loofah to remove dead skin You missed your gynae appointment Is it not a priority?  I’ll call you back, after I pack My veg, protein lunch and fibre snack After I colour correct my afro to black In a conditioner of banana, eggs and cloves,  Where’s the avocado?  I forgot those. Oh yes, contraceptives!  Ashwagandha, sea moss, collagen and multivitamins You don’t have enough vitamin D Take a walk after weightlifting and 30mins on the stair master.   Learn how to swim. After the dishes, during t...

 I'm so impatient I cannot take a moment Let it be vacant  I cannot take pauses that are silent Empty and unoccupied I will not let time slide Until I overshare. 

 

We have limited time to feel And I treasure beautiful summers But all these loose ends can only be tied by you I seek relief from stones unturned  I never thought it was desperation It felt textured in the ethereal  It felt measured in something real It felt like something I could feel But I am unable to explain To capture succinctly the loneliness  That saturates my pain.

 I keep calling your name When I'm drenched in madness Running up mountains of memories A garden of roses,  peppered with thorny facts You were a great salesman Sold me dreams.