The milk I poured into my cereal was laced with suicidal thoughts,
It choked the goodness out of the fine slivers of almond that punctuated
My honey toasted muesli.
The steam from my honey sweetened rooibos whispered damp unworthiness that
Seeped into my very core.
I could not draw back the curtains to let light into my living room…
The sunshine spits stinging nettle hairs into my eyeballs,
So I keep them closed.
As I brushed my teeth and looked in the mirror I saw it was covered in veins that
Pulsated with pain that the world refuses to see, hear or feel.
The mirror swallowed my vision so all I could see was darkness.
The eels in my bath water no longer electrocute my body.
They numb it so that it feels no physical pain at the thought of pain infliction…
or that of visions of what we leave behind when we sail through the clouds on our way to
Meet the Universe.
The world is a beautiful place.
So full of delicate petals that pad the landing of delicate bee feet
And the pitter patter of crystal clear rain drops that quench thirsting sands.
It is full of care and tenderness that slips by unnoticed by breaking hearts held together
By adhesive sobs that seal in hollow vacuums of doubt and fear.
The salty ocean air envelopes us in healing breezes and whispers from lands afar.
Some days are indeed harder than others.
Sometimes perspective burns like branding iron up your nostril.
Sometimes breathing is like inhaling poisoned needles.
Yet we keep rising and holding on.
We look for the rainbow’s end.
By now we know that this is not nearly enough.
We wait for the darkness to pass.
We immerse ourselves in music.
We hold on to those that matter.
We live an hour at a time until we can manage larger chunks.
We speak about the plague fearlessly.
We stand tall.
I am not dead yet.
You are still alive.
Let us breathe in unison.
Seek compassion in times of misunderstanding.
Depression need not be feared.
Talk about it to those that matter.
Frank Malaba © 2017