We have
Too much confidence for competence,
Such deliberate disguises.
Our silly grins grimly thin.
We are the hollow men,
And insidious ideals appeal
In a dream stealing spiel with zeal.
No rest for a lost boy.
This is the way the world ends;
Not with a shout but a whisper

Do not touch
The shards of glass
That lay fallen
Where the bottle broke;
No matter how pretty they are,
Or how nicely they catch the sun,
And no matter that they gleam like stars,
Because the edges are sharp,
And could cut your fingers,
And leave you so brilliantly broken;

And yet I still found you
Crouched beside glass like crushed diamonds
With thick beads rolling down your fingertips
Gleaming impossibly red like rubies
On crystal edges
With no regrets or regards
And I can't say I blame you.

I sit and stink,
After cups of tea, conversations and melancholy
The sweat is salty, an armpit attached to sentences-
Ondaatje and the cat, Abramovic and tears,
The hollow room and my single window that ached
The smell and the grey torn shirt never got *****.

I sit and stink,
Desperate to walk, talk and get out of newspapers
Scratch rich names out of the walls and retreat
To untie the curly locks and let them breathe.
A phone thrown at one corner and emails unread
The world- a closed book with no pages.

I sit and stink,
Jeans pulled down to a wet floor
European closet and the yellow sparky lights,
Imagination erupted, there was no room to escape.
I pencilled graphs, penned letters and painted snakes
Self-portrait, Van gogh and a black and white me.

I sit and stink,
A friend, the jack and the brick house
Dosa with ghee served for the jarred tilapias,
They are all memories. Unremembered-
Like running races and the temple music system.
I wrote them down neatly, in a rectangle, they leaked.

I sit and stink,
An unfamiliar face in a place with no power
Glenfarclas, smoke and Ra Ra Rasputin
She danced. He watched. Her collarbones broke.
He dug his nail, dirt at its corner, an unshaven facade
It was grave, full of pain, his face and his eyes.

I sit and stink,
A ****** body inside the same grey shirt
Scratching names next to the European closet
With the old song from the temple music system.
The unfamiliar face evoked all human senses
The body is yet to take a wash.

What if I wanted to fight
Then turned around and laughed in your face
Tears of anger ruining my makeup
Dripping from my face
Falling to the glass floor
That break beneath my feet
Take me all in
Cause this is who I really am
Smiling
Cause Im on the brink of destruction.

We watch the perpetual war in the sky
The vivid colors of the gods
Bleeding before the mountains
A sultry foreshadow of nightfalls' catastrophe
He waits for the Suns' demise
Under the Gemini Moon
My Twin Legs split open
Wolves echo in synchronicities of
Madness
In the morning I call for Zeus
God of Thunder
Crack the earth open
Let my lovers fall to the underworld of your brothers  
Wash the scents of greed from my hair
And the hyrogliphic bite marks from my thighs  
Or bare my soul to wind
Starvation and feast
It all tastes like love
under the Yellowstone moon.

I close my eyes
I can't bear to face the mirror again
The haunting anguish echos through me
It invades and penetrates this shell of myself until it threatens my existence

I don't have the strength to face it, to end it or finish it....

Instead I mask the flames of torment
Instead I condemn the pain that shouldn't exist in my brown eyes,
The window that reflect it, and hide it among the depths of my forgotten soul
Hoping that no one will glimpse its horrors

I compose myself, yet it follows me like a shadow
It waits

The monster isn't finished with me yet