Atop a Mountain

How have you been

Atop the Mountain,

Beating through winters

And through springs?

/

I have been well,

But you without me –

Without your heart,

Without a dream?…

/

I have been nothing,

You must know it:

A shadow of myself,

A ghost;

/

The pain that took your place
In my chest

Reminds me every day

That I’m no longer whole;

/

I’m sorry but

I couldn’t take you

To walk with me where I

Have had to walk;

/

You were too big,

Too wild, too dazzling,

To step down

To my present world;

/

I left you

On the highest summit,

In the place that’s your home

And my home,

/

And with an empty chest

Descended

To live a life

That’s not my own;

/

But I can’t bear it

Any longer;

Without a heart,

How can one be?

/

Won’t you return to me

And save me

From the smallness

Of my thoughts and feelings?

/

You know too well

I cannot help you:

You have to come for me

Yourself,

/

With your hands lift me,

Like a mountain,

Rip your chest open

And put me back there;

/

And if you fail,

You will forever

Wander about

The shadow world;

/

But should you make it,

You’ll again be

Somebody

Of a Heart deserving

Lights

Flashes of lights of rushing cars,

Tired eyes of street lamps rooted in place,

Pale shine of the moon and glittering stars

Draw figures of humans and ghosts out of space;

/

In the night I forget if I’m one or the other;

I don’t speak, I don’t touch, I don’t dream, I don’t hurt –

Simply follow the lights, and imagine that somehow

I will come to the sun at the end of the road;

/

If I’m human, there I will be freed of my shadow,

Which either runs too fast or crawls, heavy and slow;

Only there I will learn what it’s like to be happy

When my flesh and my mind burn down to an unknown;

/

And if I am a ghost, I will see why I always

Have been callous and cold, and somebody to fear;

I will see what the world sees with the sun as my mirror –

A storm cloud in the sky ripped to shreds by the wind;

/

Screams of white lights of rushing cars,

Haunted eyes of street lamps rooted in place,

Quiet shine of the moon and shimmering stars

Draw figures of humans and ghosts out of space;

/

The scarse light of the night makes all figures look ghostly

But the sunrise will tell who is who, what is what,

So tonight I will walk along dark streets for hours

And till the very dawn believe whatever I want.

The Flight

Where have you carried me now,
Wings?
If I stay here, I will
Freeze,
If I leave, I will bear on my scarred face
For years
The haunting stamp of what I’ve
Seen;
And nobody will come
Close
To someone, whose eyes are home
To ghosts;
/
Much too far you have carried me,
Wings,
Much too close
To the other side;
Much too brave I have been
Where I should have been wise;
Now it’s too late to listen
To fear
Or to hope to survive
This flight

But…

You sit by my bedside like vultures

And you grasp my hands tight, when I

Pretend that I have the strength to

Step out of your house – into life

/

You sing to me songs of oblivion;

When I can no longer fight off sleep,

You fill my dreams to the brim

With what sometimes may seem

Like an escape, a grim kind of freedom

/

You drag my thoughts downwards with you,

Whispering, ‘you are already gone’;

Ghosts and demons of hope,

You’ve bound me with the strongest rope,

Through the pain it’s just you I can hear

/

And I’m barely holding on;

And I’m all but going insane;

I’m forgetting my loved ones’ names

And how good it felt to be loved;

And you say to me: ‘it’s ok’,

And I almost believe you, but…