PoetryAloud
Naki Akrobettoe Reads
A Poem That Healed100 percent of me believe that I possess the cure to cancer- call me crazy, that I very well may be. Truth is, I cried for seven days straight when they told me my Aunt Pan had three months to live…My tears reached towards the heavens and my heart ached just to give her more of what we consider time because I deemed her to the most valuable gift that life could bring and if I could wish upon a million stars I would wish just to sing her peace. The melody would start off with a little bit of humming followed by a sweet symphony of brass, bass, and cello. I promise you have never met an angel with a sweeter hello- she was my everything. She was to me, what Michael Jackson was to the world and we made a pact when I was just a young little girl, that I would never stop dreaming in color, or outside the four corners of a box, even if I was living life at the bottom my heart would always put me at the top. My aunt could never hurt a fly and the moment she bowed out gracefully, I never questioned why because I told myself big girls don’t cry- we shower blessings and after the cancer therein lied the lesson that all I ever asked God for was the strength to see her through her last days. Morphine was not enough to erase our past away. I can still smell her baked fish and broccoli casserole. I’m smiling toward the heavens because the angels will never know a dish tastier or a hug never worth trading; this woman taught me about dating, first kisses, and heartbreaks. I would be rude if I did not reciprocate, so with all the God within me, I vowed to write her a poem a day, just to create a fantasy where she could stay, just a little while longer so I could find her a remedy that could erase her pain away gently. If only peace came in an IV or a bottle I would go bankrupt just so she could swallow or break bread, even take communion. Never again would she have to be tube fed, because I was poetry at her bedside; a peace that will never subside. Not even after the last syllable was written, not even after her eyelids closed- simply because I wrote this just so she would know that she made a difference. I will recite this, live this, and breathe this in her remembrance.
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