On the third day of spring
In Hakone, Japan
A heavy snow fell

It was a bit of a sensation
Between the store clerks
And visiting tourists

I walked along the dark street
Letting it melt
In my hair

Like I was feeling it
For the first time again
And again
And again
And again

Maybe in a different world
I am braver than I am now

I can fill the silence with words
That I’d never dare to speak out loud

And what comes next would
Just be a distant cry of a crow

Maybe in a different world
we’re just like the rest of the crowd

And on the porch of our house
A ladybug reflects the sunset’s light

Night falls; in the chariot of moon goddess
Draped in shadow silk and encrusted with stars
She sits; crimson staining her unearthly bodice
A deadly wound among thousand golden scars

He drops his silver sword, scream dies in his throat
The blackness of her eyes slowly turning white
He sheds tears; it is by a song he himself rewrote;
A mere mortal who has slayed the Queen of the Night

The crown is his; he won the castle and the throne of dust
He sees his family, all as one looking at the sky
He reaches out, but the night is eternal, and the space is vast
All alone, he listens to their prayers but he can't reply

He waits patiently, for years, until another appears
As was he; the hero with no regard for what it would require
Until then, he watches from the universe's frontiers
And remembers his world, missing the warm touch of fire

I preferred apathy
A quiet release
Of tension in my shoulders

I chose kindness
Accepting the guilt
It inevitably comes with

I mixed and matched
My mind, my soul, my heart
In a flurry of greys

I basked, unbothered
In a meaninglessness
Of my own creation

Take a step forward
The air is cold
And the grass soft to touch

the words i wish i could’ve said burn the most
how sweet it is
to slip into the embrace of indifference
replace anger with guilt
drown slowly

I dance
On the altars of shattered faith
Bow to the self-made gods
In the place I call home

(there is a distinct lack of feeling
apathy, they say
without even trying to
explain color)

Push your dagger ‘till it breaks
Listen to the cries of crows
When your broken body aches
Leave the corpse to decompose

Start, do you see where it ends?
Scream, but who is left to hear?
Like your mind, the dream just bends
Born with hope, you die with fear

Only dogs are left to beg
Only loved ones left to starve
Just a cracked shell of an egg;
No more meat for you to carve

my best friend
is metaphorically two-dimensional
not of a very talkative sort

instead
it whispers in my ears and whipes off my face
tears that were never shed

it demands attention
wrapping around my arms and legs
like an ivy

jostling between my lungs
making for itself
a nice, empty space

find me
between reality and un-reality
at the edge of spider's web
about to snap

hold me
my wings are getting tired
the air is about to
run out

catch me
as I drive myself insane
trying to hold onto
your arm

save me
no escape route in sight
I feel just the beat
of my heart

I wake up
The perfect imbalance waiting for me
                                          The judge speaks
“Did you love?”
                  Yes, but not how you wanted me to love
                   Not in a way that would make them happy
                  In a way that was mine- and only mine
                  And though I wanted to scream I never made a sound
“Did you hate?”
                  Oh, with all my heart,
                   But never for long and I would
                   Forgive and forget and forgive and forget
                   And I would direct the hate inwards above all
                   Untamed and with no remorse
“Do you pray?”
                   Occasionaly, though not to a god, for they never listen
                   Not even to the saints or the holy spirit.
                    I learned my lesson a long time ago. I pray nevertheless.
“Do you deserve to be saved?”
                    I don’t know
                    To be perfectly honest I wouldn’t save myself
                    But some would give up anything to save me
                    And I can’t omit that

I wake up.

I miss writing
Or rather, i yearn for it
Like I would for
My own pair of wings
A wish to be granted
A relief in pain

The book I hold
In my dreams is complete
Unlike myself
Every word crafted
Perfectly on the altar
Of the typing keyboard

And when winter passes
The dream will disperse
Like smoke in the wind
Blown out candle
Rotten fruit
Unrequited love

As if a music box
I feel the melody coming to an end
And the dancers continue because nothing had happened
With a spring in their step, joyful and beautiful
Has Time cursed me or them? I wonder
Nothing will remain, except for
A paper plate
An empty seat

It’s early morning
I wake up; the dreams and nightmares alike are lifted from my eyes
And the promises I made in vain keep following me around
The birds that were supposed to fly south keep changing their mind
I consider for a moment whether to point them in the right direction
But I have guests;
The Death knocks on my door just as the water boils
And I make tea, cut some cake, make them welcome in my home
It is the not the first time that we’ve met and probably not the last
They tell me all about their work and how it’s tiring them out
Then we play a game of cards
In a stroke of luck I win an absolution from my sins
I feel the pain inside my chest lessen just a tiny bit;
They shake my hand, pat me on my back and stand up
I can’t help but notice that their scythe has a trail of rust
Waving goodbye, I close the door
I clean things up, wash the dishes, put them all away
Waste another day