Die dunkelste Nacht

There are too many secrets
surging through me

and they're not all mine.

There's not enough room for them

and they know that.

It's too cold

(but they don't think so)

and I feed them well.

And I watch them devour 

the death that despises me.

There are too many of them hovering 

over me when I sleep.

And the voices sound like mine.

But the terrors from Hell aren't mine.

And my screams don't even curdle their blood,

they entertain them.

Sometimes I am obscene, and it's

all just entertainment.

But when I attack them in the name of God

I'd like back all the things

I don't deserve, please.

And they whisper lies to me at night.

And they ridicule me at night.

And I need to stay awake.

Oh, Dear Jesus may the

scales of lies be shed from my eyes

that believed them.

The slick and sly and skilled disguise

will not be soon forgotten.

Fight, fight fight fight.

Fight fight fight fight fight. Fight.

Fight fight. Bleed. Fight bleed.

No sleep.

It's won.

And isn't this all so convenient

to have another thing to blame but myself.

"Sounds like a personal problem."

You're right.

Good night, darkest night.

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Teich,
find't ihn keinter gleich. 


Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Graben,
fressen ihn die Raben.


Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Sumpf,
dann macht der Reiter... Plumps!

your light

My eyes open to the dark
Here I am again
Unaware of the state that my mind is in
At peace and protected never hurt so much
I've a sky-splitting ache to feel your touch
I don't know a thing about the things I do not know
I don't want to hear about the places I could go
Send me letters, send me sonnets, send me cold-hard-cash
Anything to ease the burning from this fiery crash
Walk me down to the lake with your face to my ear
And tell me everything you do not think I want to hear

I'm really not brave
I'm really not brave
I'm really not brave, no

Blushing by the way you say otherwise
I'll slip a secret into your most heavenly eyes:
I've a sickening fear of never being complete
And having everything I do dissolve away in retreat
Switching roles, taking turns, and playing to win,
It would be far more tragic to never even begin
Maybe the most of you is hiding in the sun
And it's you that's shining down over everyone
You don't budge while the earth rotates into night
And I remember how I never will deserve your light

Remain.

I am spring turning summer or the fall turning cold.
I am the difference between the young and the old.
I am the rings of a tree, every year multiplying.
I am the not yet success when you are still trying.
I am the time in between the lightning and thunder.
I am the seconds it takes to recover from blunder.
I am page twenty-five of a very long book.
I am between the first glance and the vows that they took.
I am the threat of a plan that's about to unravel.
I am the biting of nails before the bang of the gavel.
I am the breath in your lungs while you're still underwater.
I am the roadtrip you take to go visit your father.
I am calming a child before the whimpers are gone.
I am the whole night while you're wishing for dawn.
I am a manicure that has not fully dried.
I am the terminally ill before they have died.
I am the bridge that's before your favorite part of the song.

I am Waiting...



and have been for so long.

cheap imitation.

mockeries of lockdowns
& locking you up downstairs
would never do,
supposeitdids & whatifs
don't amuse you,
& my imagery is
useless unless
these things
make you itch
where your heart is.

so my prayers go out for you
through your inky jet blue
night
& periodically throughout
my rose-colored-bright
day
as well.

with the leftovers of my 24 hours
i contemplate your structure
& what it is that makes you wriggle inside
your arduously polished patterns.
lipsticks, chopsticks, matchsticks, eye tricks-
maybe that's what little yous are made of.

& maybe we will explore it together-
the depths of your psyche, that is.
& we'll pour over your inhibitions
to come in contact with divinity.

& it's possible that even in the afterglow
you'll continue to peruse clearly empty aisles
in a hopeful manner[?]
& i'll continue to wonder why you're surprised
when the curtain falls before your final soliloquy
& your breath is taken back,
just like that shirt you got at half price,
because it so failed to live up to
the designer's version.