Promise

Yes. I'm making fun of you.

Yes, I enjoy watching your cries for help.

No, I don't care. Why would I?

Just stay put. It'll be over very soon.
I promise.

Kiss Me

We enter the stage

and the plot says we should be kissing passionate

but we suddenly start punching each other

and kicking each other to the ground

and scratching and strangling and slapping and

hurting each other and

blood spreads on the floor

and we slip

and hit our heads

and we die together in a huge puddle of blood

and nobody knows why.

Foresee

I'm not afraid.

It's more than that.

I predict a very black future,

where I run and run and run and still never reach the right place.

I predict pain and misery.

I predict loneliness.

I can see the hole

I'll be buried in alive.

I see the sand that will surround me.  

I see the brightest darkness and I wonder

what to do to avoid it.

 

And wondering I sit here

looking at your beautiful eyes

your friendly smile

and remain silent,

as it is too hard to explain.

 

Shadow Soul

There is this cute little girl

with her honey-brown eyes sitting on the floor.

She loves drawing things:

birds, houses, people,

stars and clouds-

Everything she draws is black.

There is no pink, no blue, no green.

She was born with a shadow in her soul. 

Dance for Life

So you dance

and dance

and turn the music louder

so you won't hear the clock ticking

and you stamp your feet on the ground

as if you could make the earth

stop spinning.

And you sing

and laugh

and drink

and jump around

as if time hadn't gone by.

And your eyes carry this heavy eyeliner

which is framing your tired little red eyes

and the make-up is piling up in your little wrinkles

and your feet hurt so much from the high heels

and you know

but won't ever admit

you're getting old.

Fool

Tell me,

what have you done?

What good is it?

Anything to be proud of? 

Or just a sequence of meaningless days?

Just watching life pass? 

Watching discovery channel, 

drinking coffee from a Starbucks mug and

waiting for life to be over?

Tell me, 

don't you hear the clock ticking?

Don't you see it's time to wake up?

Don't you see you're a fool?

One and Only

So when you face death

you kneel down and swear everything

and promise to change

and you regret

and you beg for one more chance

and you feel like if you get the chance

you'd do everything differently.

And once you got the chance

you simply forget.

That's why death usually doesn't give second chances.

Bitch

You are not the one

you are the other one.

The one who waits for hours 

for him to answer your message.

The one who can't make plans,

'cause you're always plan B.

The one who must always look pretty and happy,

otherwise he won't meet you anymore.

You are the one who must make him happy, 

who must do all these things the first one doesn't.

You must be patient and charming 

and always wax your pussy 

and smell like sin

just to wait for him.

In the meanwhile you're the one

who is slowly losing

parts of your soul

parts of your will

parts of your self-respect

being the bitch

your own personal bitch

screwing yourself. 

Weltschmerz

Weltschmerz?

Die Welt schmerzt!

Mir schmerzt die Welt auch...

Die Welt in mir schmerzt.

Ich schmerze der Welt.
Schmerzt deine Welt?

Diamond

I wake up

next to a diamond

beautifully sparkling in the morning light

thousands of facets shining in every colour

filling my bedroom with warm light

making me feel so save 

and so lucky.

I wake up

next to a diamond. 

I rub my eyes and 

see him.

The one who has been by my side

even when I didn't deserve it.

The one who has never given me up 

even when I had given up myself.

The one who is 

indestructible

and the most precious 

thing on this planet.

The only diamond I desire.

Farewell

Who are you?

I've got so many pictures of you. 

So many letters

and notes

but I look at you and wonder

who you are.

You smell different than you used to.

You're wearing these clothes I don't like.

Your eyes don't have the same colour.

Your smile doesn't have the same taste.

Touching you feels wrong.

Your voice got hard.

I wish you'd leave.

Who are you?

I've got so many memories of you. 

So many shared moments

nice ones and sad ones

now I look at you and wonder

who you are.

Please leave.

Stupid

Getting old and sick tic

and weaker every day tac

 fighting this helpless fight tic 

against this horrible clock tac

tic

tac

tic tac tactactactactac!!!

And nothing will change tic

pace of time tac

destroying every cell of your body tic

wrinkling tac

aching tic 

weakening tac

everything tic.

Making you feel so stupid for even waking up every day.
Tac. 

Elements

Give me fire to burn

water to drown

air to fly away

or earth to bury myself.

Just do something!

No Way

I won't 

have needles in my life.

I won't.

Don't you dare pierce my skin

with this bloody syringe.

Bills

And then you start wondering what you did to deserve this

and you think you might have been a worse person than you thought

and you wonder if you could have done something

and you'll never know the answer

in the meanwhile you try not to give up

while you're more and more giving up.

Swallow

Emptiness 

swallowing you up

as if you were a gulp of water.

Disappointment

pushing you down

as if you were a worm.

Indifference

spreading in you

as if it were cancer.

Dissolving would feel good. 

Maicon - The day I met humbleness

Once again I was walking my dog around the corner and once again I met someone who made me think about how lucky I actually am. So, there I was, walking down a street called Uruguai, which is the name of a mighty river in southern Brazil. I say mighty, because I am from Europe, where we praise the Danube as biggest river. Poor people, have never been to Brazil. Everything here is just more, bigger, louder, harder, hotter, -er. I mean, I am surrounded by superlatives! 

Anyway, walking down the street I pass that house that has been on sale for years. Right next to it they're building a new building, 9 stories high, which is exactly going to mess with the view of my bedroom window. Well... I'm walking there and I see a young boy. He's carrying a bag with a couple of cans. He smiles at me and I wait for him to beg for money. That's what they usually do. The look at you and smile. And then they have a very special way of asking for money,  as if it was your fault that you have a job and a house and they don't. 

He politely says "Good evening".  I nod and smile. And wait. He: "I know it is extremely unpleasant to have strange people asking for things. But could you give me one minute of your attention?" The well chosen words and his nice voice actually really do call my attention. I nod again. He goes on: "Tomorrow is a Holiday. I usually collect enough cans to get some money to buy food. But as there is this Holiday, everyone went to the beach. So I haven't found enough cans. That here (he shows me the bag) is all I got. This yellow house here is where Dona Vera lives. She is a teacher and I help here with her huge garden . But she is travelling, there is nobody home. She has beautiful flowers, I hope she watered them before she went to the beach...I go to school in the evenings and it is really hard to concentrate when you're hungry, you know. So I was wondering if you could be so kind to maybe buy a sandwich for me?"

I feel he's being honest. He looks at me, with his humble eyes and I wonder how hard it must be to depend on someone on the street to get a sandwich. How bad I'd feel to ask strangers for food. I would probably starve to death due to my ridiculous pride. I go to that shop at the corner every single day and just buy whatever I want. He passes the same shop and can't even buy an apple. 

We start chatting and I ask him about his family. Apparently he's got 5 younger siblings and his mom works the whole day. I picture this family living in a wooden house, full of hungry children running around. Do they even have beds?  "Come with me", I say. I go to the corner's shop. I buy food for one week. Three huge bags. He is so skinny and looks so fragile, I'm not sure he'll manage to carry all this. When he sees the bags his smile is a smile of relief. A smile of "I asked the right person for help", or something like that. I ask him: "Can you even carry this home?" "Of course I can! Thank you so much! You've saved my day! My family will be so happy to have all this! Thank you." 

I nod and say goodbye. He walks down the street. A neighbour from another house, who apparently knows him, smiles. I see them talking, I see Maicon showing the full bags of food, as if he had won a Mercedes. It was just rice and beans...

Greys

I listen to that song

and suddenly I'm 15 again.

Suddenly the only thing that matters is 

if he'll kiss me or not.

Suddenly ditching school

and smoking a cigarette feels like being a criminal.

Suddenly I'm 15 again

and there is only black or white

love or hatred

always or never

everything or nothing!

I'm 15 and don't know yet,

life actually is a never ending sequence of greys.

God, I miss black and white!