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Lions Don't Live in Greece

Is what people tell me, but I've seen him,
A mane full of bristly black hair, standing tall
On hind legs, brandishing a mighty spear.
Every insult pours into my mind,
I know the truth. I don't belong here.
Home's in a college town in the United States.
Home's a horrible place to call home. Never belonged,
Never belonged anywhere, did I?

Standing in front of the mirror, taller than me,
Three times as tall--maybe four,
I ask, "Who am I?"
Mirror doesn't reply. Mirrors can't talk,
You idiot. Academic smarts
Can only get you so far,
At least you didn't have to kneel to get here.
But all this kneeling for a Savior
Doesn't get you grace points.
Just makes your unexercised fatty thighs sore.

I'm endlessly obsessed with this idea that
If I keep searching for God in dusty corners
And damp halls and dark rooms
Maybe I will find Him, but I don't,
I find him. I find someone else.
Someone whose identity I tried to rip myself from,
Because, and I quote,
"Trying to love the inhuman while hating myself
Sounds like a great way to end my final letter."
I don't have much.

Loved demons and the inhuman before now.
When I was mighty young. I had dreams
Of being swallowed by the whale, like Jonah,
Sometimes I still feel the raging heartbeat
While stuck between bristles of baleen,
One day I'll be the whale. I'll eat us all.
I'll end up so hungry. I'll eat him, too.
I'm so sorry, beautiful lion of Greece.
Your flesh is soon become mine and I feel so bad about it.
Need to find you quicker than I can find myself.
Need to love you more than I can love myself.