find my name
in the sand, not yet
When I walk
I walk in silence
Cutting the line
Deeper into the soil
This makeshift border
And the sky below
My wife said “Babe, seriously, write.” — So write I wil.
I’m sitting naked on the edge of the bathtub. I just shaved off my beard of a few days and am about to take a shower. Today we’re going to meet with some friends that have invited us for dinner. It should be a relaxing and nice day.
I feel lost. Not desperate or anything like that, mind you. Nothing as immediate as that. I just don’t know how, what, I am supposed to feel anymore. I’m lacking a way forward.
Next week I’ll meet the psychologist again. Her first question will be “How’s it going?” And right now, I don’t know how to answer that question.
Jotting all this down, I can tell, is making me feel more at ease, though. Things feel less out of place, with some puzzle pieces falling into those irregular-shaped openings that before were just emptiness, places without a purpose.
Maybe it is as simple as ‘write’.
Going to take that shower now.
It has always been our time, looking back I am blind Forever I lie awake In the bed in the Birch tree forest
Amount to nothing
My weather taken
Thumbs in sockets
Till day's end
Not going anywhere And still moving My heart, my love
Moon beams Cannot reach me Through the branches Of the Barren Tree My old heart fits The mold perfectly
i don't want analysis i want simply true tell me your story help me to subdue make my words silent show me your soul offer me your life and make me whole
angry, makes me angry contagious rage running, my blood red eyes, can't see beyond my fists there is nothing out here hold me back
My prayer, a
Death, not now but any