catharsis

By Akubudike Deborah

my bonsai skin is my art - 
collected pieces of broken walls 
                 break my walls further to keep me from walking away 
a fragile miniature frame encloses this body; contains it well.
 
my poetry suggests hypnotherapy
my therapist tells me "your body is {too} two cracked walls.
overweight. you must learn to {contain} control it."​

skin is my art.
my art is a skinless piece of voiceless melody - 
high-pitched. pitchy. high-pitched. crazy.
her pathos caterwauls in iambs of a young girl's voice
in a woman's throat 
                  we hear whimpers, silent as dew
falling on knees 
giving her an illusory sense of freedom for a while
& for a while 
   the pot is broken.
 
i'm candid her name's hyphenated: two sides of the same coin, being tossed constantly - 
water & fire 
life & death
me & her. 
chatter silence, chatter.

Writer's Biography

Akubudike Deborah is a poet and lyricist. Some of her poems have been featured in magazines, including Blue Moon [Rialto], Acapella [Cypress], and others.

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