Obaba Museum

Hey how’re you doing?

I’m sure you asked that just for formality,

not that you really care about my well-being or desire to help
(well that’s just my imagination)

I’m fine thanks, I reply with a smile masking the ugly scars carefully concealed under the well shaped beards,
The one you think is a cool change for my revolutionary style or in your words persona.

If you ever need someone to talk to I’m here, whenever you need me,
Na your number I bin dial when those ghosts came haunting me at night,

but you hardly noticed my absence,

the recess from the usual clicking of tumblers and vodkas downed when one is called to bar by the supreme judge of our duel.

Behind bars I fight the constant thoughts of neglect,

The matters of my heart are what matters to her,

The pain I’ve caused seems to hammer 🔨 on for so long,

Long enough to void the space I once called home.