turned inside out

…symbolic gorges of the creature dwellers
i prayed that they be full but not with me
and now i feel like pumping up the bellows
the stakes are high but feelings swiftly flee

i buried a lover…
- in my dreams
i cared for nothing that
lay in my arms
a pleasure is weakness
my weakness it seams
with sizzling fever…
my scars…

a lich-gate to heaven
possessing me so
ein fehler?.. villeicht,
aber think:
this torment just triggers
the levers that throw
the knives that would sear through the link…

break out!
- i would fail to
condemned to resume
suppression of feverish thoughts.
the carnage of geysers
too awkward to prune
prune down my backbiting plots.

i’ve haltered myself
on my oak-tree of pride,
crude necklace around my neck
- of all my preventions i carefully hide
and stab my lang syne in the back

my stagnant oblivion
pressing my lungs
to a wall where nothing more ails,
my eyes start to redden,
i cling to a rung…
the rest is wie immer. it fails

to………..



- grow to a larger
and gruesomer hall
where nothing’s so real and so sad.
a prowling whisper, i weep as i crawl
to my own reflection instead.

(27 ноября 2002, 3:04)