A Recipe For Healing
John Ebute
Warning: Do not go further if you don’t have the heart to stomach new adventures. The delicacies we prepare here first enter the heart before slithering into the stomach.
Ingredients: A bottle, a knife that glints, ten ounces of smiles, a canvas, seven colour shades.
Procedure:
- Gather your tears in a bottle– the ones you bury under a veil, the ones you fear no one will ever understand .
- Pick a knife. I didn’t say it is for your throat– I know how many times you’ve tried to snuggle death in a bear hug. Slit your heart, just a gentle incision. Allow the light that streaks in to burn off the darkness of your depression.
- I know you’ve become too accustomed to the weight of your anxiety. You fear you’ll become too light, as weightless as the air, if you let them go. Ten ounces of smiles will do the trick, so allow it to sprout in the garden of your countenance.
- Your heart has become cramped– too many secrets you hide in the crevices you carved there. Mimic God. Scatter your seven colours on your canvas as you deem fit. After a dreary storm, God aims colours at the sky & it arches into a rainbow. Make your own rainbow – there, your healing lies.
John Ebute has over 20 works across literary magazines. His works have been nominated for The Best Of The Net and Caine prizes. These days, he spends his time trying to understand the sly, slimy ways of diseases, something his lecturers call “pathophysiology” as well as the equally ingenious ways in which drugs try to halt these processes, something his lecturers call “pharmacodynamics.” Although a hermit, you may be lucky to catch him on rare occasions on Instagram @ D-penwielder.