don’t visit my garden

-zero draft-

Several weeks ago I moved to my new apartment.

It was the first of September, and it was an unusually hot day. The first thing I did, was to water my new garden. I went out barefooted, straightened out the hose, and opened the water tap. The yellow grass smelled like hay, and the anthills I wetted dissolved under the water jet. Little white eggs were swept away, swimming towards my patio. The soil under my feet still radiated with the heat of the day.

I went back to the deck and took a cigarette and pulled the lighter out of my pocket. The sound the lighter made, seemed alien. I thought of the dry grass and told myself not to torch the place. I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, especially when exhausted on hot evenings… You have a running hose in the other hand, dumbass! Sometimes I told myself, I deserved a huge face palm, an unbelievably gigantic one. What could I do? Should I start slapping myself? I decided to sigh instead and proceed with the watering.

“So stupid”, I told myself with Paul’s voice. Paul’s voice.

That was the only thing left; the only thing he left me with… It remained the only thing that had found its way under my skin. His voice nested in my head, and told me things he used to say to me, used to whisper. It teased me, snorted and laughed at me… I nearly felt his fingertips on my scalp to ruffle my hair. It was very convincing.

No.

I was convincing, I corrected myself instantly.

I was convincing myself, that he liked to be with me. And that he would have stayed with me, that his parents made him go back and marry that woman.

My reflection in the window was clear, and lonely. Above me, the sky turned slowly violett with orange on the western edge. No wind, no stars. Yet, I sighed smoke escaping through my nostrils.

For a moment, I saw stars I seemed to exhale with the smoke. I stared at the window, observing the movements of my own reflection. Nothing unusual.  Was I so exhausted, that I was seeing things? Obviously.

How strange… My watch showed 7:30 pm.

I loved evenings. I loved gardens. To be accurate, it was why I took this place. The garden.

I loved Paul.

Between my toes, the yellow grass flossed among the attacking ants. It burned somewhat. The violet faded to a blue-black. It burned under my skin, in my lungs and head. My eyes kept stinging. Smoke got into them. Burning… Stupid…

The smoke corroded its way to my bones, blurring my vision, blackening my skin from the fingertips and nails. My chest felt tied up, so tightly, that I couldn’t breathe. Something moved. Suffocating. It jumped, and spun and jerked deep inside. Felt like crumpling me up from the inside. It kicked. I tried to cough it up. It felt like ants crawling inside of my airways.

Stupid! Why was it so hard to breathe?

The something hammered on my ribcage. Breathe, dumbass! Crushing me from the inside. It banged against my thorax, it threw itself against my lungs. So desperate to get out. Smoke billowed out of my mouth. Ash and a tiny star fell to the ground. It rolled around in the wet yellow grass. An ant crawled in the hollow of my right knee. Above me the sky was black.

No moon. I stood in a puddle and my feet felt like ice. The star still rolled around in little circles like a too big marble. It glowed. Funny. Huh… I let the hose fall down.

Something dripped down, something warm. The tip of my fingers went dark, wet and warm.  Nosebleed, huh… I threw my stub into the puddle, it fizzled out.

The little gleaming star in the marble was still there. It looked so natural, as if it always had been there, between drowned ants and brown grass. Stupid…

It was my own voice that echoed in my head. I remembered, I said it to Paul. I… I spat it to his feet.

It was a really cold day last November, and it just started snowing. He stood stiffly by that opened living room window expectantly, or angrily. I couldn’t read his facial expression, maybe I didn’t wanted to. His eyes glowed with… anger, or fear.

“I jump, if you go!” His words slithered across the carpet and the snowflakes.

“If you go now, we’ll meet downstairs. Look at me now, and remember my face, cause in one minute its going to be pulp.”

Stupid.

That November day I passed my last examen. I could call myself a doctor. He hated me for it.

“If you leave me, I’ll jump.”

I hit him. And went.

I slammed the door behind me, as hard as I could, so I wouldn’t hear, if he really did it. Stupid! On floor level I held my breath and peaked around the corner. Nothing on the pavement. It snowed. A car was passing by.

As I looked up the house front, all windows were closed. Stupid.

I told you, I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box. I believed a coward.

Between my naked cold feet a glowing marble was lying in a puddle.

thoughts on shuffle

IMG_3447There are places, which make me stop and think for a while. 

I’ll be more precise.

The feeling they give me, makes me stop. Suddenly I have not enough breath in my lungs and my feet stretch to touch the core of the planet. A weird kind of buzzing fills the space between my ears…

I’ve been here before, haven’t I?

And then I’m empty. It is some kind of blankness. A cold sensation in my stomach. I start to doubt that I’m hermetically locked into my skin. For a moment I’m sure there is a hole somewhere. Something ripped through me, and I didn’t notice. I’m leaking. Or maybe the world is seeping into me. I know it will squeeze me into my every pore, into every wrinkle of my being, pushing me to the outer rim of what uses to me be…

Movement stops.

I fall.

At least, I think it is some kind of falling sensation. A random plummeting to the ground. Downward sucking notion, but without the wet kissing thud at the end. Without hitting any surfaces, without the crashing and breaking, without the impact… Just falling. 

In those moment – I have hope. Hope to find my purpose, my place in the world I inhabit. The hunch I need to grasp the meaning behind all this…being-human thing. It is almost a fully formed thought, a nearly recognized feeling.

I have been here before, haven’t I? 

Isn’t it ironic? I can’t seem to realize it…

by night

I’ve always been afraid of the dark.

My whole life I was scared when the lights went out. When the day dissolved into the night, I crawled, as fast as I could, under my blankets, leaving my reading lamp on. Often the whole night.

But things change…

There is no reading lamp – not anymore. No blankets. I sit in my chair, smoke and wait for the dusk to come. The grayness descends so slowly, carefully, not to scare anyone away.

Emerging from the business of midday, from the productivity others use to care for, the twilight spawns. Slowly unfolding, growing… As if breaking up the surface of  reality, the fuzziness within and around things reveals itself.

In those moments I feel my heart beating stronger, louder, faster… As if it would  respond to a call, I did not hear in the first place. Ill-defines movements under a dust layer. Left alone, for so many centuries. Left to feel despair, to feel quilt, to feel … myself, my flaws.

nightmares in a dirty blanket

every night, I’m sick.

every day, it gets worse.

how can I sleep, if I don’t dream?

I only have nightmares

no food left to eat,

I can’t leave, I can’t sleep.

So I make myself some tea,

while the nausea eats me.

How can it be? That I still believe?

that something waits for me…

Somewhere…

Bitter and empty, I start shaking

wrapped into dirty blankets,

I’m only nightmares.

bad company

“Rise and shine.” Grizzly says, gently patting the jacket I use as blanket. He’s been driving the whole night. It’s already dawning, and we’re still on the road. Nearly over the mountains by now, the rain has stopped.

If you were wondering, Grizzly’s not a real bear. He’s ’bout 6 feet 6, hairy, one-eyed beast, with hands like paws. I call him Grizzly, for being such a log of a man. His real name is Urs. He’s from Switzerland, the land of  yummy chocolate and huge mountains.

The first time we met, he hit on me. That meathead tried to convince me, that everyone going over the swiss border, gets a bar of gold, a cow and a cheese wheel. He was so persistent, I nearly bought it. Of course I googled it. And he caught me. Can  you imagine how hard he laughed? Beer squirted out of his nose, he nearly choked. The laughing-coughing-fits shook him, you could have thought that barstool he was sitting on, was a live rodeo horse. Nice, huh?

“Hmmmyamorninhngrylikawulff” I yawn. Hungry. “One day you’ll transform fully. Into a big fuzzy Teddy bear, and I’ll cuddle you to death.” I sit up and rub my face into his shoulder.

“Mmm, death by cuddle? Is that a promise, sweetheart? I’ll pin you on that one.” What an impressive bedroom smile, from one ear to the other. I like it.

“Will you keep that dust on your jaw?”  The clouds run before us on the road.

“Doesn’t make me look distinguished? It makes me look more serious, don’t you think?” – “You look like an old grumpy pirate…”

“Don’t you like it? One word, an it’s gone.” His index plays with one of my  crimson locks. “Red? Let’s not scare them, this time. Be a nice girl. If we look like freaks, we don’t need to act like freaks.” He throws me a mischievous grin. “Smug place, smug people.”

“Darlin`… Anything for you.” I smile my brightest smile. “Imma be a good girl. You’ll see.” Outside, the mountains part and the wood pulls up its skirt. Little houses loom in the misty morning light, far away, at the end of the now opening valley. The windshield’s dirty.

“Cross your heart!” Grizzly’s laugh booms, I feel it vibrate in my guts.

*

We hold hands across the table, my tattoos hiding in his huge paw. He sips his coffee, and I dig in some pancakes with sirup. Even with the black eyepatch on grizzly’s face he looks so cute. Before telling me, where that eye went, he has been telling me, for month, every time a different story. Maybe Urs is a compulsive liar… That should bother me somehow, shouldn’t it?

The pancakes were good, despite of everyone staring. “Grizzly?”

“Mm?” – “Everyone’s staring…”

“Let them. We would be too, if we saw us in a mirror, wouldn’t we?” I concentrated on the syrup running from my fork. I nod and swallow. We would. Who has ever seen such a couple? Him, a one eyed man-bear, and me – almost a midget, with bright red mane and tattoos all over. We are not exactly… Common?  Mundane? Ordinary?  I don’t know… We are we. And there’s nothing else. For now. Nothing else.

city in gray and white

If I had to turn the other cheek

Hit me, your palms won’t speak –

The color shifts  from white to fire

Your eyes lit, can’t stop to admire

Winter in the skyscraper woods

A dump for our white goods

I wasn’t listening – just letting go …

Some covers left to blow,

hiding from the terror blaze

Does this feeling flow both ways?

Is your heart still opened up?

Our life shown in a smitten closeup

Remember what the people said?

If you don’t fight, you’re already dead

said and done

I can’t wait for those nightmares

bad choices snicker at my scares

on the fence I’m drying my sins

guts of a scapegoat fixed with pins

*

Light the fuse, I sit on bombs

I’d stick to the world in your palms

I can’t stop grinding my teeth

Excuse me, let me breathe!

*

Don’t tie me to the back seat!

You can’t hear me praying on repeat.

When I wake up I’m afraid,

I feel cold and betrayed

*

Secretly hiding your good-bye letter

into the sleeves of my favorite sweater

knotted around your swaying waist

We dance – a death tango, fast paced

*

Somebody’s beneath my face

Somebody else took my place

Let me go, or start listening!

 you look – my heart’s blistering