mauerbauertraurigkeit

mauerbauertraurigkeit (df): the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

if I still could make
a step back
I would
there is a harsh
wall behind me
and it's already biting
into my shoulders
I can feel the heat
radiating from
your body
and your heartbeat
is so loud
I can't hear
anything else

you look at me
and there is
a soft shadow
around your eyes
I think you are
saying something
- your lips
are moving
but all I can hear
is just the drumming
of your heart

I cover my ears
and it's like
taking a step
back.

oxygen (fuck. I can't breathe)

it looks a bit

like an asthma attack

as they show it on TV

at 2 am I said 'no'

to my mum

when she mentioned

something about

the ambulance

it seemed to me

at a time

that's a very

long and difficult

word
at 4 am I told
my dad
to call the ambulance
(imagine how many
'nos' you could fit
in that sentence?)

world transformed
into a beautiful chaos
of blue lights and
the constant hiss
of the oxygen tank

(fuck. I can't breathe)

birth

I was born in the month

of falling stars

maybe my parents

should have thought of it

as a sign

an omen

of yet not determined

nature

instead they looked up

only to name

the constellations

- and once

there was nothing left

to name -

they talked about

the Theory of Everything

I was born in the year

of the rat

or

(that's what
my parents said)

 in the year

2⁶ x 31¹

- it was
a good year
(they added)

I was born.

crossing

We are standing on the verge of the pavement: less than a few inches from the street, with the ugly cubic building behind our backs. Its shadow covers us and nearly erases from the landscape. Somehow, in this fading light, in this silence of ours – everything looks like a stage set up for the judgement day. Your cough synchronises with the hum of passing cars. It’s eons before one of us decides to move. Metaphysical veil is lifted. Now it’s just a night, the city, headlights of the passing cars and us. Finally we can cross the street.

you've told me to leave you alone

the air in here

tastes like salt

and I know

it's because

you were crying

with the out-of-focus

contours

and the fog

pouring out

from your pale

blue eyes

you look more

like a sky

semi-transparent

and kind of

absent

I breathe in

pretending

I'm at the

seaside

.

cigarettes called Pink Elephant

can't shouldn't mustn't

taste of anything else

than vanilla
I set one of them
on fire
and watch
the end of the world

air smells
like a cake

tarantism

tarantism (df): overcoming melancholy by dancing; the uncontrollable urge to dance

it's a noise

inside my head

and if I could still speak

I would sang

together with it

instead I bite my lip

and move downwards

my own spine

dextra

sinistra

my arms extend

I extend into both

directions

I become

a big

black bird

with sad biddy eyes

and no song

at all

my fingertips

draw fractals

around me

I am the epicentre

I am the source

I am the explosion

I sway in the air

and move frantically

only not to fall

because I know

it could

break me

(I'm made

out of china

I have

no glue)

I dance.