Knocked down


The world fed me with horror

I ate everything on my plate – even doubled

In the restaurant I called for excitement – more

Life gave me its heart but I just walked out the door


I wanted purity, not truth

So I went to another door,

knocked, because the doorbell was nowhere near,

broke my fingers while trying to make everything clear


I tortured my body

to cure my soul.

I fired the future

to live only with the old.

December 2012




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