My ears are buzzing
ringing and done
I hear parts
of my day
but most of it wrong

Yet I
hear your aggressive
whispers, because you
were too scared
to scream
I hear your
Tiny, little movements
That are part of your scheme

I hear your
Snarky, nasty comments
your
silent breaths
soft hands
and smell

I hear you loud and clear

And when everything is silent
I hear your sempiternal yell.

It doesn’t hurt
most days
I’m too busy
to want anything
anyway

Here you are
the same
but different
older
we all are

I thought it was
an illusion
my existence in
a one woman play

but you’re blury
which makes
everything
crystal clear

Is it real?
Is it ever?

You are here
and there and
everywhere
and
I’m a coward
because you are
only there

It is not my place
It is never my place

Your hand is warm
in hers

Is it time for mittens?

It really doesn’t hurt.

My eyes follow
specks of dust
I talk to people
but just touch the crust.
In a crowded room
eyes seem mat
I want passion and magic
but everything is flat.

The specks of dust
catch no heat
the only thing indulating
is the line of my heartbeat

I thought for so long that
the answer is fate
But I’m tired of waiting,
there is no soulmate

Perhaps I am uncapable
to catch the specks of dust
I want it too much
and thus I am cussed

Is this it, for me?
Is there more, I’m unable to see?
If disregarding fate sets me free,
there is no excuse in which
I am able to flee.

So I stare into the air
feeling that life is unjust
while I crush with my hand
thousand specks of dust.

Lights are fading
the city
one big mush
nothing is persuading
me
I miss feeling a rush

A feeling of regret
maybe even love
a tear, a cry, a scream
something to feel tough

Not that I am sad
nor am I unhappy
far away from mad
just feel a little crappy.

Even if our
eyes meet twice
a day

you glance
at me
with lust?

I crumble,
petrified
of the cliche?

not yours
not mine
just dust

in between
us

chemistry
that you don’t
understand

you wander
never yours to be
and you take
a different hand.

I smell fire
and start to panic
smoke twirls
around me
and I choke,
cough and
cough and
my eyes fill
with salt
no flames
but a clouded
view,
and then I see
tiny little cracks
and I understand
that the smoke comes
out of me
and I cough
and I choke
and I shatter

I am breaking

Where is the fire?

I breathe
I play
and speak

I think
I write
and see

I read
I run
and eat

yet
tiny little rocks
are walls
around my skin
I feel them slowly
crumbling
but hide it with
my grin

I pretend I know
this play
but forgot
all of the words

Pretend I have
a say
but it feels
all like a search

I should own
a well earned oscar
and display it on my shelf

I’m an imposter
who pretends
she likes herself.

An intruder
and a scammer
a pretender
and a fraud

waiting for some glamour
and waiting to get caught.

City lights watch
over me, during
my countless sleepless
nights.
the air in my room is
warm and dry
and in my mind
ideas are forming
they hop through
the corners of my brain
and like rabbits they
leave a little fluff
in every part they visit.
and when I open my eyes
city lights shine on my face
and I eat a carrot
some lettuce maybe
until all the fluff
starts making sense,
or until
my sleepless night
ceases to exist.

I feel restless,
inside me there are waves
slowly crashing into
shores,
ships are sinking and
every sailor says with
panic in his deep blue eyes:
don’t go out tonight,
let the ocean have its fight
and wait until it rests.

I can almost hear the
water filled with salt
collapsing into rocks
and somehow I want
that to happen,
I want to hear ships
smashing into
land.

So I crack my knuckles
and heave
a sigh of relief
I let watery salt
leave my body
and I follow the sailors
advice and let
the ocean have its fight
and I wait
until I
rest.

When Marx said that
we need revolutions
to create a world
better than his,
did he know that
people would not
understand him at all?

When Nietzsche said that
we should want to be
a better person and should
try to strive to be the
best you can be, reaching
our übermensch,
did he know that
people would not
understand him at all?

When Plato said that
people should study
fifty years and in no way
have a family
to become the leader
of a society,
did he know that,
people would not
understand him at all?

When I see people talk
I try to listen and
am often baffled
because the words
they use feel
so erroneous

When I talk
I see people,
who try to listen
but are more than often
flabbergasted,
because the words
I use
are fallacious

And I think
Plato, Nietzsche and Marx
help elucidate
that words feel and sound
different in your own head
in my head

and I know
that I don’t understand it
at all.