Visual

I feel pain 
I fell 
Now I can see
you through a veil
of mistrust
I know your motive 
but I do not understand
the way your mind is working
but all my life mother 
you eventually caused me sorrow 

Loss

On the road to 
destruction
All that moralizing 
all that, all that talking
all that walking
And with a stroke of pen
everything is gone
again

Confused In the Evening

I am so low now
there is not
a thing in the world
that can change
that now
I do not want
to feel
I do not want
to be
I do not want
to do 
anything

Everything is pain
and pain is not power
It is just pain
You messed with
my brain
and now I do not
know 
who I am 
and what I feel
Only the breathing is mine
at the moment

Hiding

Defending my weak spots
I have hidden in the sand
for so long
All my grudge 
All my pain
All my neurosis 
i try to hide them
under the sand
in the sun
while watching
the sea
They give me a lot of pain
waiting to take a bath
when nobody is watching 
me
This might never happen

Path

Trying to block 
the pain
present and far away
in the same time
time and energy
lost spaces
lost life 
breathing 
in and out
running around
in and about
trying to seal, comfort, forget,
run, close off 

I am not free
a slave of 
tradition 
a slave of
feeling guilt

Witches

I live in a scary
state of mind
Like a hunted
animal
always
being careful, alert
and prepared for a fight
Soon she will haunt me again
in my head, in my house
the place I used to call my home
the sunny day fills up the
void of my life
healing a little piece
of my tormented soul

On Suicide

When I finally
take my act
together 
and finally
decide to 
kill my self
a lot of people
will rejoice
they will feel
happy
we finally made
that strange and awkward man die
we finally will be 
more normal

My family will say
he were a difficult personality
a piece of work 
that could not 
and maybe should not exist
in modern society 
Let us now enjoy ourself 
In order to celebrate I 
suggest that you may
put my ashes in the garbage
I did never ask to exist
I did never ask to be
Life is pain
Life is suffering
And each day is another
reason to end life
There are no help to be had
but the spring comes anyway 

Fugative

I am on the run
the Easter almost
killed me
All that anger
all that frustration
And me
being ill just
trying to ward off 
moving from
one corner in the house
to the other
taking the toddler
for walk 
many many hours
Projection, ejection, rejection, 
floating spaces
of uncertainty 
is this the reality 
or is it just a lie?
I lost my sense of value, dignity
my brain closed off sealed off run away
Why do I have to live in this mess?
Now just listening to nonsense 
Nice nonsense meeting up with nice people
I do not want to see
I do not want to bee
in prison the rest of my life
for a crime that I did not 
commit 

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