To my Dad who messaged me in the middle of the night, "I miss you, I miss my brother, I feel so lonely".

and to Uncle Marzuki, whose life was filled with darts, booze, unruly hair, and the good things i never had the chance to get to know.

walk with that limp you paid for, to keep your life
he's got your back
i saw you cry alone
my eyes are blind, yet my heart wept with you, for you

take that dart and throw it
bullseye! can you hear him laughing that your feet were over the line?
those innocent young days
now you're wrinkled, still you argue that your shot was legally perfect

way over young
still the jokes are far from old
there's no need for a eulogy
he knows you better than you do

so you're left with your shadow
you feel a drink should do
then you stumble along the corridor
but you know you can't fall cos he's not there

i've got your back, daddy.




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