Here. Trapped in needle holes
as breathing becomes a hustle
Here. Tickling my anxiety,
trying to babysit my thoughts
in this cruel cage of a naked page
Here. Trying to be authentic
in this corpse of my missing pieces,
waiting for their autopsy
Here. Trying to be harder on myself
through self-bully so I can move on
with my burden to the finish line
of a new beginning
Here. Strangling my patience
with a rapid pace as my pieces yell, yearning to be in peace
Here. On this warship, worshipping
my anxiety and loneliness
Hope deflecting, despair taking over
the soul of the sage in me
Here. Ages of empty pages
of gazing sages with zero wages
self-grazing on thoughts through
choaking bars of philosophical barnyards
Here. Stripping off my mindset
so my consciousness can sneak itself
into new pages of toxic thoughts
snaking through scorching scripts
from Socrates to Jean Genet
Here. Trying to erase my phobia,
using broken bone powders
of Plato, Kant and Averroes
blend with ancient nicotine
from Egyptian mummies
Here. Still trapped in needle holes
in a world of falling skies, of rape,
of war, of apocalyptic fires,
of bleeding oceans, of pedophilia,
of violent gunshots, of racism
Here. Still questioning my sanity
dating the universe with
its stars and scars, flare of fear,
fair enough am drowning in despair
Here. It's a gene of generations
of genocide and holocaust
fairness is dead and skeletoned
The theory of justice and Rawls
are just a premature insulin
of selective insomnia and dementia
Here. Still I communicate with
my spiritual DNA, while UNHCR
and human rights watch keep playing
ping pong with refugee brains
you still are questioning my sanity?
©lamin
L