Hallucinations

It is days like today  
where I wish to chop off my head  
and feed it to the Cape vultures-  
picking dead fish skin in the swamps  

It is days like today  
where blackness becomes a curse  
blanketing my brain with morbid thoughts  
and illusive dreams  
 
I don't speak to the voices anymore, ha ha ....ha  
This dog is used to their old tricks,  
I won't bulge to their bait  
Scream louder you fools!  
HAAAA HHHHAAAAAAA  
HHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAA  
 
And damn, I fell for their shit again!  
Both hands clinging on to the space between my nape  
and my head    
Turning my head into a ball  
Safely secured between my arms  
With my eyes tightly shut  
and veins pulsing through my temple  
 
They have invaded my mind... again!  
I hear screams beyond graves calling out my name  
"Shut the fuck up" I purred out against  
their violent attempt to bury me in their voices  
"Please, shut up!" another  aimless attempt  
against an army of darkness  
blowing trumpets in my head  
 
"SSSHHHHUUUUTTTTT UUUUUUPPPPP!"  
And this time I joined the voices  
Equaling them in my uproar  
and these coward voices hid themselves  
 
As I raised my head once more  
I was smitten with hollow faces  
that had empty sockets instead of eyes  
and their hands had no flesh  
 
In my attempt to back away from them  
I saw midget coming in from an opposite direction  
Carrying high metal blivets that were three times their height  
chanting words in a foreign language that I couldn't make out  
 
I knew then that I had began hallucinating  
I knew none of this was real  
If I could just concentrate  
These midgets will disappear  
and so will these eyeless strangers  
 
I felt a hand touch me  
I was now down on the floor  
Also chanting "I'm sorry!"  
 
Looking up to see the face that belonged to this hand  
I was met by another hollowed-eye-socket  
And this time it was really shaking me hard  
 
I tried to decipher the gibberish it uttered  
I know this language!  
I just couldn't pin point it  
I tried harder to concentrate  
This is really a familiar tongue  
A familiar voice too  
 
And then suddenly  
Flesh emerged from bones  
And covered the hand that held me  
Eyeballs manifested in those sockets  
And words, proper words formed from the rounding of that mouth  
"Lonwabo, Lonwabo!"  
 
Lonwabo —  
but, but that's my name  
"Lonwabo, Lonwabo, Lonwabo!"  
 
The more he said it  
the more audible it sounded,
he was calling me;
calling me by my name  
 
I looked up and I realize  
a crowd had gathered  
some with their mobile phones with camera lenses pointing my direction  
some murmuring something on their handsets  
"yes...... Maboneng .......yes, Main Street...... he is conscious"  
Were they talking about me?
 
Still I saw others laughing and pointing at me.  
 
I tried to stand, my knees were too weak;
overwhelmed by the count of heads that circled me-  
like a lion pride claiming their prey  
 
Funny thing is, I had read somewhere that a paralyzed deer loses its sense of feeling  
once it has been encircled by its predator-  
making for a painless death  
Is that what happened to my knees?
 
In those bewildering moments  
I heard a voice in the far distance-  
so out of reach yet so audible  
"You will never forget us!"  
 
And I understood what had just happened  
I had another attack  
in a public domain  
in front of my client  
 
"Lonwabo, Lonwabo!"  
 
Jerking my head, I looked at the horror in his eyes  
He thought I had just lost my mind and became completely insane  
I sat on the floor a while longer  
Knees tightly folded to be the height of my head  
Hands clinging on to them  
But I was no longer held up in some trance  
I was breathing heavy and loud  
Taking in greedy gulps of air  
and hashing it out-  
in an attempt to free myself from all the grief that had taken over  
 
My head is still painful  
Occasionally shuffling thoughts of that dreadful occurrence  
Parading through my emptiness-  
a void that had become a full part of me  
 
So it is days like today  
where I wish to chop off my head  
and feed it to the Cape vultures-  
picking dead fish skin in the swamps