So today is Amy Nwunye’s birthday (@ibetapassmynebo) and I felt it would be a good gift to host her in our Poet’s Corner for a day. This poem hints at why women may be so difficult to understand. (in my twisted, naive interpretation). Enjoy!!!!

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WARNING

THIS IS NOT AN ATTEMPT TO BE A POET

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Woke up on this cold dewy thursday morning

Confused….lost…desperately searching for what was wrong

Looked out of my window, saw a lady, with her hair neatly packed up, a lady in white…A nurse…depression

Blinked

A man, in uniform, physically fit, tall, definitely not handsome…a security guard…depression

*sigh*

Staring at this tall tree, its specie…I do not know…I dont even care…
Nothing….I felt nothing…complete shutdown…emotions muted

Looked further, saw nothing…heard a very unpleasant sound coming close…closer…the gardener…mowing…depression

Depression….confusion…depression
The lawn mower screeching…depression

Looked down…looked out of the window for the last time….I saw him….yes…. Muscular…dirty…fierce…dirty….loud mouthed…..dirty…..he…the mechanic

Depression…..raised to the power of infinity
A confederation of emotions Depression…the mechanic
Dirty….my dream job….a mechanic
He had it….I didn’t….the mechanic

His stained overall….my jumpsuit
His dirty nails…..my red acrylic
His spanner….my montblanc pen
His slippers….my louboutin
His scattered afro…..my braids
His body odour…..my prada’s infusion
His burnt out skin…..my supple SPF 100 protected skin…
The mechanic….my depression
My dream….my first love

Heavy knock on the door
Bringing me back to reality
Sharp pain on the lower torso
Pain….sharp pain….hurting
Pain….the rush…blood rush
My monthly flow
the latent source

Depression