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.