The more concretely

you tell a story, the less --


you'll be understood.

He is not a spy

and not a child, just silly --


with his secrecy.

She calls a street street,

but does not know bridges, and --


does not know dead ends.

I just let the pointless anger
rage around in my head
and bang the door

behind my sadness
to search for a way out
of your incomprehension

which I can not bear
I am suffering, knowing not
to be a child, you're not my mother

who could read my face
whether open or closed
We have to take pains:

married love, wanting
to go together through life
under a yoke, not running away

after the years of romance

You left me…
Almost speechless
Like when everything you want to say actually shuts you up
There were flashes of discourses by the greatest men ever
Lyrics to the songs that you never understood
But also there was silence that you would not have respected
Mixed in with a whisper just not loud enough to hear
Ironic how three words, you deemed suited for this moment
Spurred such a stream of simultaneous shush and scream
That gave me both the will to ignore your words forever
As it did the urge to tell you everything to your face

The belief your life is over
With nothing to be done
Its last part in isolation
Waiting
For the pain to become too much
The pain, the pain
Staring at the same walls
Forty-six days in a row
Never knowing whether
Tomorrow you’ll wake up
And if there is, if you’ll survive
A future left in store
Delirium, depression
A hole left in your soul
Then coming out on the other side
Only to realize
Everyone has moved on

Then who are you to utter these three words to my face
Who are you to dictate how my life after that should change
The words you chose so carelessly, I will take to the heart
Just not to leave the past behind but to make a brand new start
I’ll look you in the eye and use your words  against you
When I tell you how I am about to
“Get over it”