It was the clattering in my kitchen that woke me. Stupid cat, I thought and turned under my blanket. Wait. I have no cat! I sat bolt upright and listened, heart pounding. The kitchen clammed up. I croaked a ‘hello’ into the dark apartment.
My dry throat begged for a glass of water and a panic room. Gosh, all these wishes were as likely as an oversized cockroach making me coffee. The air moved. Something smashed on the tile floor. It must be rats. ‘Mr. Burglar, go away. I’m broke.’ Continue reading “the weight curse”
Each step on the road I take,
Each step on this line of blood,
A bullet point on the list of suffering
-if only I could understand Continue reading “to give away”
One cold night the full moon’s blaze burns
The children tremble and pray, taking turns
The sky bursts its heartbeat into buzz’n thunder
Black turning into whistling metal, going under
My sweet baby, there’s only blood for your baptize
ready for bed, after the noise and havoc slowly dies
Stay in your cellars, a howling beast is out tonight
It’s something beautiful, deadly and cruelly bright
The night shivers with autumn stars
Highways packed with abandoned cars
Dark and deep silence solidifies into absence
shifting days and nights back into balance
Wishful thinking, being covered in leafs and mud
Meat and saliva, sweet baby, this is bad blood
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 Continue reading “said and done”
The thin man walks up to you. “Mr Jones?” In his hands a cup filled with mealworms. “Your car is waiting. This time the driver won’t be naked. I promise.” He sips from the cup, makes a delighted sound.
You try to fight back the overwhelming nausea. You’re gonna throw up, if he smiles!
“Come on, Mr. Jones. Don’t make that face. It´s not polite.” Thank god, you turn your head the other way. You just nod. You don’t want to look at that face, ever again. You hope he is not your driver.
Continue reading “Where to Mr. Jones?”
I’m in love with the morning star.
This is not only about me, my stories, or my search.
It’s about the sky and the stars, and everything behind that deep blue void. Behind that distance, the stone cold space, deprived of… meaning?
That’s not right.
It isn’t the lack of meaning.
Continue reading “the name of the morning star”
I don’t know what it is…
We just sit on the stairs, outside, in the darkness. No one speaks. Rain. It is a gentle, silent rain like in autumn; still summer though…
Inside, the party is in full swing. Laughing, music and shattering glass. Next to me she moves suddenly. The ice cubes clinks in her glass. I still have liquor left in mine.
„You know“, she states, letting her voice slip away into the blue. „You know, I’m different.“ I wait if she throws a meaningful look at me, but she doesn’t.
I stare at her silhouette, trying to spot the thing that isn’t right. Feels like… Don’t know. She is weird. Definitely. She talks with an accent I don’t know where to put…
Besides, who else would prefer the chill outside over a party? Who cares? Something about her face catches me, in first place. I think it is her eyes. She keeps them casted down. But from time to time, she seems to forget it, and I catch a glimpse.
She has unusually bright yellow eyes, glowing with a soft golden light. As if there is a lit candle in the depth of her scull.
„I’m a foreigner.“ She says in a flat tone. This time she looks at me. „You should not be here. With me.“ Her eyes darken. „Leave! They come to pick me up.“