I moved to Africa... and

now i have my ghost swahili
discretely... my skin, too white to be
a lion's grunt. But I serve no wildebeest
on two legs.

I love the broken yurts and the falls of Victoria.

I come from where we all come from.

And having arrived
I love best the world
from where I've
been.

Cassiopeia trumps
a lump in the
breast.
The story of how a Chinese Princess
warped a hound
into a toy
wrinkles your porcelain; it drowns
in sunshine.

II

tomorrow comes like a lost fiend.
but up above, all the reasons for calamity
gather and drum.
long slits in the noose record the rope
*that short-sheets the bedlam.
but nothing is as gorgeous
as an ugly
joke.

and I'm a Scorpio.

So now you
know.

I know
how you work
even as you keep it to yourself.
I have no fantasies
only a train of well thought
and pure reality.
Much unlike your feverish  
doubts, regarding my sincerity
I have never kept another
at my backdoor
to retrieve when you lost your ****
to numb the gap between Us
all the more,
I certainly lied about my ghosts
but haunted as I am
You are haunted
more.

And I  have nothing
more to claim
As a man in love
with you
but not even a You, at your best.
but, the You I found
failing to
love
herself.

Your self preservation
machine
is remarkable, regardless !
It tells you it's ok to make
me gone,
And fall back to an undone lover
to patch your groin from
a hollow patch.

However less good he may have  been
all is forgiven
but no forgiveness  for me....
you exalt him, after i have truly
bent my world
to serve you...
and your offspring.

even though
I chose to abandon
my nature for your sake
He lays claim
to your bed and plush thighs
because it suits you
to have him -
and now he
mounts you, now and again
because he's the devil
you know

even though
he vanished
when it really
counted.
like summer
snow

but i was there,

with my problems
that your
problems
had a problem
with.

and i don't have a car
for a ****.
just a heart
to trick.

War is coming, it is on its way.
Don’t try to hide, it will find you anyway.

War is coming, what will you do?
Will you resist its power or just let it through?

War is coming, it is now or never.
You either get to run or stay forever.

War is coming, are you still here?
You’ve had your chance, the end is near.

War is coming, stand tall among the white knights.
Tonight we die with honor and fight for what is right.

War is coming, it is just a footstep away.
But we will not surrender, and never will we obey.

War is here, and it shows you no mercy.
Bodies are falling to the ground, it is bloodthirsty.

War is here, death is all around.
The cannons are blowing, you can’t hear a sound.

War is here, now you are all alone.
As it stabs through your chest, you fade towards the unknown.

War is over, not a single eye is left dry.
You fought bravely, it’s alright to say goodbye.

You see me and I see you.
I have never met someone like you before.
You all of a sudden say you like me, is that true?
You open up a before locked up door.

As a warm cup of coffee you warm up my soul.
It is a feeling I had forgot.
But now I am no longer in control.
I guess I like you a lot.

You make me feel like I am 10 feet tall.
I can almost touch the blue sky.
But what if I loose my foothold and fall.
Would you catch me or let me die?

I feel so carefree in the cold and thin air.
I can see all the tiny people passing by.
But when I turned around, you were no longer there.
Did you forget me or was all of this just an evil lie?

Well, I guess there is no more to talk about.
So I suppose I should just let it dwell.
And as a candlestick being burned out.
I now bit you a bittersweet farewell.

It is so dark that I can’t even see my own two hands in front of me.
But it is okay, I don’t even need the light to see.
Because all I need is not to see what lies ahead of the path I walk.
Nor do I need to hear the birds sing or even the voices as they talk.

I might end up stumbling and falling along the way.
But as long as I know it is meant to be, I am sure I am going to be okay.
And if I happen to not be okay in the end, that is alright as well.
Because no one can do anything to harm me, no one but myself.

I have hurt the skin that covers me, seen the crimson red peep through to say hello.
But of course I didn’t tell any, why should I let anybody know?
I do not need any pity because after all I made these choices for a reason.
A reason others won’t understand, they might call my actions for treason.

But I don’t care what they think, they should just leave me alone.
How could they ever understand how it feels like, to be unwelcome in your own home?
I have held countless of knives in my hand and let them embrace with my ivory bones.
I can only smile for myself, now that I've found my place beside the many tombstones.

With his curly ginger hair, wild like a lions mane,
he just have to give you one look before you go insane.
He knows he is charming and he knows it so well,
that he finds joy in casting this inescapable spell.

His eyes are like the abyss: dark, cold and deep.
They consume the soul, make your mind go to sleep.
He has damaged you already and you think he is your remedy.
If you could just open your eyes and see his true identity.

With a longing for love and hoping it would float,
you went right in his trap to get him: the antidote.
But instead he fed you up with toxic dreams and lies.
Because this is what he is: poison in disguise.

He is addicted and when it’s bad, it’s bad.
He makes me miss our memories we once had.
He used to be my hero, a hero who now has gone mad.
He is now occupied by a bleak and depressing habit.
But the help is in his reach, he just simply has to grab it.

Mom tries so hard to believe all of his lies.
She still sees her son behind those blood shot eyes.
But when I look at him, my eyes are only filled with despise.
He has hurt her, both physically and mentally.
It makes me so sad and angry, but it also helped strengthen me.

I could see his body and mind were drowning in decay.
But he wouldn’t even listen to a single word I had to say.
Those close around me tell me it’s going to be okay, just pray.
But what will it help him, if I pray to a God I don’t believe in?
Even if the almighty cared to listen, I don’t think he could cure him.

I was so ashamed of him, ashamed of what he had become.
But now I am no longer feeling ashamed, because I’m completely numb.
He abused his second chance, what’s done can’t be undone.
People make mistakes, that’s why when we fall we learn to pick ourselves up.
But instead of rising, he keeps on falling, landing in the same spot.

I still remember the days when I wanted him dead.
His whole existence annoyed me so much that I wanted to fled.
He doesn’t know how sad I was, how many silent tears I have shed.
I love him, but I fear his habit one day will him smother.
Because this is only the empty shell of what used to be my brother.