You're so tiny

You're small, my dear, you're so tiny I barely see you for a hair, 
the only barrier that stands between us. 
You used to be much bigger, maybe life is taking you back in time. 
Or perhaps it's simply taking me forward. 

The table for lonely souls

This is the table for lonely souls
If you're accompanied, please sit at another table.

The raging wolf

Inside a scream, outside the silence,
passion and sorrow both on hold
the raging wolf desires his freedom,
the carcass trapped him like a cage,
I will not worry any longer,
just sit here tightly till it's gone.
Bring me a sheep to feed on quickly
to ease the hunger to survive.

I am broken, mother

But I am broken, mother!
I am down and out,
bitter and sad and torn
and scraping at the bottom of my soul
for that one speck of truth and hope
to bring Me back to me.

What do I do, mother?
I am alone and lonely
inside and out bruised hard
my head no longer finds comfort on this pillow,
it stings and burns with all desire unfulfilled.

Let me know, mother
how you coped then,
yourself alone and bitter and confused
with no help but your own strength
to get you through the night.

For it is winter, mother!
The night is long and dawn still not in sight
and this one body next to mine is dreaming;
his dreams of peaceful rest I envy,
yet I am still alone and lonely in myself.

Selfish

I want to keep me to me
and to surround me with myself,
my lies, my years, my tears and shakes,
My errors and my laughter still.

I will not give me to the world,
to tear me into little truths,
and take each piece home with them,
till I remain the lie unveiled.

I'll keep my truths, I'll keep my lies,
I'll keep me safe from misery,
I shall not give, I shall just take
It's you who'll cry, it won't be me.

That old guitar

That old guitar you've left at home,
who's still there leaning on the wall,
afraid she won't be touched again,
nor played, nor sung to as before.
She'll gather dust and be forgotten,
inside a recess of your soul,
her image getting slowly duller
until one day she disappears.

shiver of cold, shiver of pain

shiver of cold, shiver of pain
be glad that you are still alive
tremble with love, tremble with lust,
be glad it's over for a while
don't touch me now, don't touch me yet
be glad I'm here within arm's reach
don't breathe out loud, don't breathe at all
keep deathly still, it flies away.

The demon-poet

The demon-poet sits on the doorstep rubbing his hands.
The crop was good, the pain still here,
tears flowing with no end in sight.

Inside, the stammer of a childish voice
still hoarse from screaming "mercy, please!"
from begging you to stop.

The demon-poet grins exuberantly,
delight is his and his is the reward,
for waiting patiently to be unleashed.

The demon-poet roars with laughter;
but now he suddenly begins to quake
for there's a light somewhere, barely a glimmer
approaching quickly, now a bright white flame,
not fire of passion, of desire, or anger,
but calm and peaceful light of day.

Let the heart still cower

Lie in bed
let the mind wander
let the soul hunger
let the eyes crave

Your voice is gone
your inside's screaming
your wishes bustling
your dreams fulfilling

Shut yourself
let the voices cover
let the eyes still wander
let the heart still cower

What will I do with this mad Poet of mine?

Sure, for a while I will forget my sorrow in your arms,  you fair-haired child with big wild dreams.
But do not ask that I let loose
All the emotions I just freed
From years of caged nightlife,
when they stood huddled up inside
that narrow dark cold cellar, not knowing day from night or sun from moon,
not daring to dream that freedom would one day arrive,
each one held tightly by the one close to it
and yet not sure it was not all alone.

Sure, I'll let you see a little of me, you wild dreamer of irreverent happiness,
But do not ask that I dream with you,
All those sane dreams of passionate youth.
For my wounds are not yet healed, nor know when they will be,
inside this mind that will not let them out, nor give them rest from the tormentor still.

Because the sane one tells the darkness "Go away!", but there's the Poet who wants the hurt,
who thrives on misery and loneliness,
and I can't sate Him, he's wild with rage, with madness and hunger.
And He keeps screaming for Hell to be let in.
What will I do with this mad Poet of mine? Dare I drown him in life and drive him away?

Because I dared to ask to be let in

That barrier of loneliness
I dare not cross with you again.
It's etched so deeply in your soul,
To mask and drown all hurt and scars.
And you put watch dogs at those gates
To growl, to snip, to bite my skin,
To tear all flesh from me away,
To make me hurt because I dared
To ask to be let in.

Sweetheart

Sweetheart, your emotions are short and volatile,
Your kisses passionate but meaningless,
Your words like smoke, they rise and float away,
And your "I love you's" like a winter's day.

With every taste you get You back

That moment born from pain and hurt
When you think it will never work
And you will die if it is over
But come back stronger for the morrow.
When you succeed in misery,
Harness it all and let it drive you
Towards the depths of your abyss.
You're slowly wading through the darkness,
Tasting each sorrow with a sip,
Then take more mouthfuls, it gets better,
With every taste you get You back
To live to write, to start all over.