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…

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

Flying,

Flying,

Flying;

/

Snow flakes –

My tiny frozen dreams – are falling lower

Down,

Down,

Down

/

I will not see them

Settle on the barren winter ground; watch them

For me, while I am gone,

Gone,

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

Yours?

/

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,

Disappears?

/

Tell me not that you are

But a soulless star,

Oh, Full Moon,

/

Blind and deaf

To little lights

On dark roofs