Poem: Drown it in the flood

You made him the center of your world
But he determined to loose himself and be lost anyway;
The one you called your baby,
Who fed from the bosom of your love,
Has strayed, following his wild appetite elsewhere,
Leaving you tearing at your hair like a miserable hag.

You may cry yourself a flood, my lady,
But don’t do yourself in it;
Your hurt may burst in unrestrained spurts,
But don’ t go down in the deluge
The jagged wound of your heart that was torn at
Mustn’t become a cancer that eats your whole being up.

Purge your soul of the bitter water and drown Mr Baby in the flood
Let the smacking of his greedy mouth and unfaithful kisses
Wash into the deep like the choked cackle of a drowning man.
Your tears may have their fill, my dear,
But at some point, unplug. And forgetfully
Let his treacherous memory, under the currents, be gone.

Then, please my lady, stand in the sun again
Till your face re-assumes it’s cheery hue
And your hair regains it’s smooth sheen;
Till your heart learns to be tickled again by life’s slight joys
And we all get to feel warm again in the flash of your smile;
Run gallant miles along the beach or over a hill, if you have to,
Till you feel alive in every hot and sticky bit of your body
And with all pleasure, wish to feel like nothing but a woman once again.

©2011, Poem by Tee Akindele