slipping in and out of an unconscionable haze
but drawing back into the dark; one phone call away.
after escaping into the bathroom to cover up the red, my eyes stare back, out of apparently my own head
unrecognisable i stare at the girl
who just one more year ago was loved and unsure

two hours later another call becomes another wave,
i cater myself a slave,
to the sadness on the other line
in this together but 930 kilometers away
there's not much i can do than to sit here and pray

not quite religious and little if no hope for a chance, i pray for your little p* and heart,
to feel no pain for one more day.
i also pray for my message to reach you;
your incredible ways we couldn't have taught you

A sad man sits in front of me in the library
He seems generic;
A used sketchbook, modern glasses, and a Banksy sticker on his MacBook.

His arms are filled with marks
black ink solemnly attempts to cover up what is underneath
But they are beautiful
An abstraction of two people kissing, entwined like the style of the art
Further up is his star sign;
Aries

Honest, courageous, passionate
Impatient, impulsive, intrusive
I don’t know if this is him;
All I know is his art, encompassing his every stroke
and carve

His left arm has a different mark
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
What happened to you?

i lie here today wondering
how different it would have been
had i ended up with him?

would i cry less, would i be happier?
now he sends me messages of love and trust,
making me fall and believe

but if i remember before you,
he had made me cry enough too
why is it like that?

i supposed he realized that
i found someone new
and somehow he is jealous of you?

The sun shone on your last morning,
2 hours later snow fell.
Maybe this was you, gracing us once more.

You stood as a contrast to our black clothing,
your innocence, kindness,
against my guilt.
I should have called, I could have heard you one last time.

I am overdue for this apology.
It has taken me nine days to write this,
I'm not sure what was stopping me,
but I couldn't possibly utter these words.

We sat in a row, listening to old relatives speak about their past with you,
and all I could feel was your cold, thin hand grasping mine,
your large blue eyes looking for me with hope,
your beautiful voice singing me to sleep:
"in der Früh, wenn Gott will, wirst du wieder erweckt"...

I wish I could convince myself;
God decided it was your time to go, as you had told me he would.
But I know you suffered and I know that He wouldn't have taken you
before I could have said goodbye.
Or maybe this was His plan, to make us suffer for you, for once.

When the bracelets that you wear become
symbolic of who you love,
and I wore two while you had none.
Would it matter how these bracelets looked?
If it does:
One was pink, it bore the symbol of Christianity
I had been asked many times if it was
but all it proved was my unconditional sinless love
for you
the other was striped, red and white
while everyone told me it "was so much like me"
I wore it because it "was so much like you"
and by now we had melted into each other.

I suppose we started falling apart when they did,
the first I lost yesterday.

I would say I love you to the moon and back
but that isn't nearly enough
I could spend twenty-six years of your life
on another planet just for the
hope that I could still return to your arms
and tell you that that is at least how much I loved you.

I could sacrifice my heart because I know that
every part of my body will be infatuated with
your touch even without the heavy breathing and
powerful pumping of your compassion.
I will love you doubtlessly.