Some might see me as a key
Some might feel me deeply
Some might see me as the door
Some might meet my core
Some might perceive my essence
Some might hear my soul
_______________________________
Follow up / Twin poem to:
Withered Flowers on your grave
Maybe it's time for me
to go on and let you go.
Maybe I'm just to blind,
maybe I don't want to know.
In the depths of my heart,
the crypt of my soul,
I try to keep you alive
but you're dead like a zombie.
Find' tausend Mittel und Wege
mich zu zerstören,
doch kein Mittelweg,
wenn ich kein' Sinn mehr seh'
meinem Leben noch
einen Sinn zu geben.
Love is free,
a vast, spacious ocean
- free of addiction,
real and in motion
A cleansing dive,
without fear
of drowning
Love is a gift
from within
- safe and calm
A coastal view,
bathed in sunshine
- soothing and warm
Brightly colored pictures
Move before my eyes
With no single reaction
Of my heart and my mind
Accompanying voices
I can't quite comprehend
My senses sense sensations
Which don't make any sense
Hidden behind a mirror
Ridden with shame and fear
Performing for the world
What you think they want to see
Denying that you're lovable
In self hate and doubt
Running away in anticipation
But wishing that you'd get found
Structure on the walls
Indistinguishable from
A remote distance
I'm not your critic,
not your gaping wounds of the past.
I'm not your reactions
they tell your stories.
I'm not your fear
of losing yourself.
I'm not your shame & hate
for being yourself.
I'm not your fear
of intimacy.
I'm not the mirror
you mistake me for.
Thats the mirror
of yourself.