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„Well, at least he inspires you“
that’s what they say
my dear dear friends
when I show them pages over pages
of sappy poems and unfulfilled dreams

you do – it’s true
But I’d gladly give up
this overwhelming surge of creativity
and be cured from this disease

not that I don’t love it
the writing, the need to
pick up a pen and
put it all down somewhere

It’s just that
I’d rather go back to sleeping at night
not worrying about what to wear every day
and having a normal heartbeat for once…

Because you do that, too.
Keeping me from all that.
Not intentionally, of course.
I know that, I don’t blame you.

Au contraire, I salute you-
I bow before you, grateful and humble
for being in love is a happy illness – at least for me.
So, thanks – for all the inspiration.



the weight of the world is
pushing me down
pulling me towards the ground

the earth is trembling, shaking
underneath my feet
Depths are opening, luring me in
swallowing me whole

need and greed and sorrow
lying heavy on my heart
weighting it down into oblivion

between the shadows of the earth
my body disappears, vaporized by heat, taken over
by love, lust, regret…
drawing closer to hell
than to you