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…

At the Station

I have to go –

The air outside is getting cold and lonely;

I hear the call

Of somewhere ineffably remote; the doors of glass

Have closed


What you may have to say

No longer matters – I’ve unlearned to listen,

To speak, to touch, to love, to hope

To miss this that I never held but an illusion of,

Fragile and fleeting


The train

Is quickly gaining speed, like fire





Snow flakes –

My tiny frozen dreams – are falling lower





I will not see them

Settle on the barren winter ground; watch them

For me, while I am gone,



Without a Weakness

I step over the faded line, dividing

The realm of trust, built of my blind misunderstandings,

And this of the unknown paths I must tread on;

I’m certain, now there’s none and naught to guide me;


No light will shine into the air, which, stiff and heavy,

Settles in my chest, changing me forever,

Into a faceless embodiment of courage; the absence

Of hope should help me bear this utter darkness;


I cannot see what nightmares come alive where

I make my way, I can’t afford to dread them:

They help to build my fortress without entrance,

They turn my heart into a rock that can’t be moved;


Behind me, in a haze, still standing,

There is the house of lies from which I ran, and

In its small windows I still glimpse the candles’

Flickering light: their faint warmth once entranced me;


I watch the flames and shadows shake and tremble,

And laugh through tears, for now that ‘me’ is nonexistent;

The new one is a faultless stronghold, built to safeguard

What was your heart – what’s now my heart without a weakness

Talk to Her

He said:

I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you:

I had neither the courage, nor the time,

And nor the love, and nor the substance necessary

To stand between you and the monsters,

Devouring your feverish, enchanted mind;


She said:

I understand and do not blame you,

I, too, you see, lacked all the things you lack:

I ran faster than ever-speeding seconds,

Away from ruthlessly incomprehensible responses

To questions that I read between the lines upon my hands


He said:

I thought, you would, as always,

Save yourself…


She said:

I tried, as always, but that night, somehow,

I failed

Full Moon

Can you see the little light on the roof,

Wandering aimlessly, like the smoke

Of a cigar


Looking at you, unreachably high

Peacefully bright,

Ineffably far?


Do you hear the private words, slipping from

The cold lips, which taste of quiet,

And of burning Earth?


Can you see through the dark night of one star

The pale face, which, maybe, half-mirrors



Do you recognize the slow, doubtful steps

Of someone, whom others wrongly

Think strong,


You, who’ve seen this figure painfully walk

On her own through one too many

A night?


Do you look down on her ridiculous dreams,

On her memories, her hopes

And her fears?


Will you watch over the people she loves,

If her light, lost in white snows,



Tell me not that you are

But a soulless star,

Oh, Full Moon,


Blind and deaf

To little lights

On dark roofs