At the end of the day
I sit lonely and expect
   that I will fall asleep artlessly.
But there is nothing
as desolate like December.
     nothing
     as unsetteling like frost, biting its way
into my lungs.

Dandelion,
The rustling of your hair makes me dream about trees.

I swallow your words ,
           they nest inside my belly.
I grow your thoughts,
            they'll flower and I'll sing.

You breathe the warm summer-air
that shyly lounges as April comes to an end.

We will meet each other on the edges of cast sunlight
and shadow of foliage.

Like the moon
     you pull me towards
         but too soon
  you push me away.
We never touch, but
      -like ebb and flow-
         I am forever entangled with you.

On a scale from one to the edge
I can feel my body slowly leaning over,
  sink down
  slide off the rocks.
And the sky has never felt so cold and unforgiving.

As my body catches the dust
      it drags along my breath stubbornly,
And the stars have never looked so distant.

Buried inside my chest
something strange has set,
slowly it aches in the hidden hollow,
             between my rib cage and heart.

There, where nothing ever was before, now
throbs a sorrow against the inside.

It scalds and sings in over a thousand languages and notes.

But the only voice that I can hear
is a child’s howling.

Look at me
when I laugh heavenly.

And look at me
when I dissolve into the grey.

Look at me
when I steal all of the Light
   and take it to the Darkness.