I starved my soul…

17 08 2015

I starved my soul to mental anorexia,

Denying it food for months and months, and months

day by day,

peu à peu,

bit by bit.

Don´t take too much, sweet darling!

Don´t run that far,

be meek and petty,

finish the duty first

before you waste your time on creativity

of thought,

and hand

and feeling…

Don´t drift too far now

that you have found an anchor

to hold and to be held in bed at night.

There, there! No childish tears

here,

take a handkerchief!

Don´t be pathetic! Now,

why can´t you shut your restless eyes

effectively

and rest a bit? – forever –

… Oh, soo loong slumber has it been!

How comes I know no mass, poor stupid thing I am?

If I should go for bond and steadiness,

Well then I should be steady, mind no further mental cause

but how to polster best that little holy world of matrimonial oyster-shell of joy.

Why can´t I be as others are?

The soul too restless, and the mind too greedy tear me

from what my sense of social roles demand from me,

and

being

double,

triple,

multiple inside,

I´m full, but starving,

deaf, but hearing things

With cold numb fingertips I try to touch

here and there and over there

and end up

Being good at nothing.

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