Ailing Soul

Call the medicine woman
Somebody please bring me the healer
Something ails the dark corners of my soul
Skeletons are threatening to spill from my burning throat.

And fight they must
If only they can massacre the self doubt on their way out.

Sometimes I crave for inner freedom
Watch myself scatter the remaining pinch of care to the wind
And free who I am to these degrading masses.

But

My tongue has been numb for a while
How come they have never figured out
That I speak on behalf of my unstable demons
And sit in fear all day everyday.

Every sunrise,
The sun shines in search of my sad face
Looking to iron the wrinkles of my customized frowns.

Blue smoke rises from the chimneys of my lungs
Like morning mist
Lifting off the overnight dew
Clinging onto everything the wet sky would tear upon.

I have fought the daring voices sharing my headspace
Pointing out the many ways seasonal pain can vanish
But never really showing me
How to dissolve the crippling trauma it comes with.

We want know they say
But I wonder if the ugliness of my naked words
Can find a home in their undecided souls.

My truth hurts
Like Beyonce's pretty.

I surrender to the elements of life
If light claims me through the cracks I am hers
And yes, the wind can take me wherever she goes.

Call on the rain
Something needs to cleanse my reoccurring sins
Soak the blood on my hands
Beneath the soles of my feet
Where the earth shall carry my cross.

_{wambuku w.}