i am dancing loudly
to the sounds of eternity,
sixty feet closer to the sun
sixty feet above the ground.
sun and moon are gone
but the lights are still flickering;
raindrops on the rail-
it’s water in the purest form,
mixed with the bittersweet
smell of the trees.
i am dancing quietly,
to humming car engines,
to the song of despair.
my flesh is made of burning soil
and stops my soul from emerging

‘‘hush baby,
with thy fall shall come thy rise“

The sun warms my salty skin
and my pores open to let your love in.
I feel as beautiful as the ocean,
I am my greatest muse.
Today was a good day darling, see,
I have captured every second of my daydreaming,
pinned those very pictures to my wall.

And you wonder why I never get out of bed, though I keep talking about the colour palette of my romantic days.
Your wind has not shifted - but my winter has come. You can’t hear the children in me cry.

Suffocating happens through minor incidents like your softly spoken words searching for an affectionate listener.
I cannot breathe, my god, don‘t you understand?
Winter has come, and I am trapped in a fourteen-year-old‘s body trying to figure out where she went wrong.
It has been cold for a decade and the sun still burns holes in my chest.
I do not need you to understand, for you are my sun, my light, my temple. I need you to see the shadows in which I wander, the orphans I have left behind -
My skin has weathered, and I cannot find the right sunscreen to care for it.

we seek beauty in our mortality,
in the circulation of the human blood
the agony of life lingers in our veins and
heats our frozen hearts,
and we find love in
the longing for death

here I am
dwelling in solitude
with the moon
by my side

and far, far away there is eternity
still, I am horribly limited, but
one day, my friend, I will rise
I will be on the other side of the universe

and with the first blossoms there came rain,
and it rained,
oh it rained endlessly long

tomorrow.
five hours between a hundred strangers, writing for my life.
my finals are starting, my hair is falling out, my self harm worsens and my anxiety is reaching for the stars.
tomorrow.
trying to decipher the text in front of me, that is not only black ink but letters and words, even sentences.
I need to calm down.
how do I calm down?
I am burning, crying, screaming.
I am hiding silently in my bed, knowing my body - loving as it is - provides me with enough bacteria to cough. my burning throat matches my inability to talk, to think, to see.
tomorrow.
the hours are counted, my life is not ending.
why is it not ending?
do I need it to stop?

please make it stop.

it had been a slow day
it was summer, the heat was unbearable
you were knocking on my door
I was afraid, I didn’t want to open,
I wanted to slit my wrists and bleed out in bed

„oh hello lovely“

I waited for you. for you!
now dust has put me to bed
and kissed me ten goodbyes,
dead cells surround the dead,
they sang me lullabies.
It almost feels like home,
yes I’m the queen now in the hive-
were I not homeless,
waiting for you, for you! my life.

within these holy walls my soul shall rise
still, I wear the smell of death like a perfume
a mind of both faith and sorrow
endlessly writing in runes
and the ink stains my translucent hands
all the blue and green of my veins
I cannot stand the fluent life in my body
maybe I shall bleed out

She can only be found by the sea,
My darling, my love, my second me.
The highest tide of my life,
My darling, my love, my lonely wife.
She had to run, run to find the reason why,
She went where the ocean meets the sky.
The absence of her presence can not be fair
But how she craved for the feeling of despair

Now she can only be found by the sea,
My darling, my love, my second me.
A poetic presence of a wish to die
Every imaginable moment I feel her cry
So I run, run to find the reason why,
I go where the ocean meets the sky.

I think about myself in gray,
like the concrete over which
the cars drive in an
endless loop
gray like the cloudy sky
that leaves no room
for being

i should rather think of myself
in blue,
like the ink that stains my hands,
or like the depth of the ocean,
where the mermaids hide

but I cannot see the colours in me

all the dead sunflowers
in my mind
they were drowning
in the vacuum
I gave them up
to see them
loosing their
blossoms
and I felt so
incredibly powerful
as I drowned
myself too

Ich renne. Lautlos. Meine Füße berühren abwechselnd den Kies, ein paar Steinchen nehme ich kurz auf meinem Weg mit, danach bleiben sie einsam neben Anderen liegen.
In meinen Ohren ertönt der nicht endende Bass meiner Gedanken.  
   müde. müde. müde.
Es ist das Wissen um das Ankommen, das mich weiter antreibt. Ankommen, da wo der Wald den Himmel trifft. Ankommen, da wo der Regen unter mir immer noch fällt. Da, wo ich Ruhe finden werde.
Links und rechts wiegen sich die Bäume zu meinem Rhythmus im Wind. Alles pfeift mir zu. Das Rauschen des Flusses ist mein Applaus. Er gilt mir, und nur mir. Weil ich es bald geschafft habe.
Da wo das Brummen lauter wird, wird das Rauschen leiser. Die Menschheit ist wieder spürbar. Und ich laufe, laufe laut. Meine Arme strecken sich aus nach dem greifbaren Ziel.

Stillstand.

Einatmen, ausatmen, tief einatmen.
-
Meine Gedanken fallen vor mir. Und mit mir fällt das Leben.
Es kommt unten an und zerbirst in Millionen Scherben. Ich tue es ihm gleich.

Willkommen Unendlichkeit.

he couldn't see how she clenched her jaw to swallow her mothers servility;
and he would certainly never
understand
why she did not want to be torn apart
by the looks of virile men

the wind pulls at me
and I am surrounded
by whispering voices
something digs its claws
into my heart, churlishly
oh within it lurks
the mighty power of death,
and I too burn for its desire

how I crave for
this kind of destruction
call me the fire of the wind
for I will give it all my light

my ash shall
go with the wind
a pinch over the coastline
and the residue
over the weeping grass
light the fire in the sky
and I will be fine

We are strangers
Glancing at the same words
Written down
But seeing different worlds
In our poems

I lie in meter-high snow
like a ghost
my hair is drenched,
my vision blurred,
my eyes are closed
white crystals all over
the reddish coat
the black veil swallows
my cold breath
Oh, winter wonderland

I, with barely opened eyes
see, how your atrocious glory spies
through the half-opened window
  but my paltry, languid soul calls for rest,
  in her old and weathered skin,
  and would she sway in the wind,
  she for sure would loose herself
god, close the curtains and let me dream
I need to sleep, sleep, sleep

I decay in white rivers
   next to my mothers house
the old, green coat of yours
still covers all of your skin
but the wind took you from me
   and left me utterly naked
with parched veins here I lie
   above you the ground, above me the sky

A wooden palace for the dead
had everyone came in black
flowers, voices, mother earth was awake
To celebrate, regret and retract

The living came to purify their souls
By invigorating adorned cathedrals
And singing songs about loss

Almost as on a causal wedding day
They did not come to celebrate the dead
But to cry about the left behind
Together, to feel more alive

And they were dancing
Around the gone
Voices creating vibration of air
Which sounded peacefully
To the song of despair

we are unconscious stars
drifting apart in the same direction.
It‘s a silver line
we drew between ourselves
and the scars of our past. -
we’re not lovers and not passer-by’s
only connected through trauma
stored deeply inside of us

the night you were unresponsive
my eyes stared right into the abyss
I dare not to say I saw all the ghosts
but I did
neither did you vanish that night
oh, but I did.
it‘s a silver line
between death and life.

one breath away from eternity
your world would still be spinning
and in another universe
we would save ourselves,
we would be conscious stars
with a shared past and
fully healed scars.

We collide
when thoughts connect
We bond through
the gravity of words
And when we hold
each other
Our atoms seem
to touch

your lips tasted
like bittersweet hell

and now I’m burning
like a glorious fire
as if I couldn‘t feel pain

my hair sways in the wind
and I am free
upon the hills
under the greenest of trees
no blood in my veins
no skin on my bones
just the universe
inside of me

Life is this tiny space
between
infinities

A finger‘s width full of
love and despair and
the desire to be
free

mother, do you not see
i cannot go down this road
i feel your tears but mom,
today I need to burn

i tell it to the birds,
and the snakes in the wood
not trying to weep
but they don‘t even listen
they never did

mother, how can you not see
how many deaths I died
trying to live

against the wall
little bird
red, red, red
again and again
where is your head?
again and again
you turn purple
red bird
but your anger
has always, always
been unheard

out of your fingertips it flows
the dark blue river
to swallow the sun and
destroy the paper towns
you could never bond with
the simplicity of things,
neither with the universe
nor with yourself
so you try to let the
flood decide over
what‘s going to vanish
and what‘s going to stay