Some Truth

there’s all the love. more than we could ever ask for.
but it won’t change the mess we’re in.



Out of your hands

You said you want to hold onto me
and turned the other way.

before you catch me, I‘ve already fallen a million times.


Below the surface

under the skin


she ceased putting words together to frame him, because his expansive fire doesn‘t reach her sandfilled heart no more. Not even a spark of inspiration although coated in bright worry and sorrow strokes her now. She got used to all the pinching, pushing – but not to the flames. Still, agile like water, she fluidly reshapes and reforms, creates space for the sharp edges before she bursts into drops and crashes away in waves. She sickers past roots and metals into the deep earth, where nothing can enlighten her soul, but the moon.

[maybe the wood is all that connects us. the anger we hold for one another. firmly grounded in our hearts.]


Small talk

von all deinen Gefühlen,
und von dieser Abenddämmerung,
die sich in Zyklen wiederholt
– immer häufiger.
Worte haben noch nie etwas gebracht
und egal wie oft man das gleiche spricht,
es kommt nicht besser an.
Auch Lügen kann man sich schönreden,
wenn man stur genug ist.
Der Weg weiter ist manchmal der Weg raus,
oder querfeld hinab.
Ich weiss nicht, was so unklar ist in meinem Kopf,
denn in aller Deutlichkeit ist es nicht so schwierig.
Sich niederlegen in Gemütlichkeit,
schwimmen mit der Strömung.
Ich versteh das.
In der Süsse übersieht man,
wie sauer es macht.
Trotzdem wollen Regeln immer gebrochen werden,
Du weisst das am besten von allen.
Die Kunst liegt darin,
zu wiederstehn.
Eiskalt oder lodernd heiss,
das sind beides keine guten Möglichkeiten.
Und ich bin das Ringen satt.

Mein Gegner ist der,
von dem gemunkelt wird,
dass er gar nicht da ist.




I‘ve been thinking about self love.
I think self love is also: saying no.
saying no in general.
and also saying no to others.


how do you put nothingness
into words
if not with silence?


kisses til fade out.

Victor Marc – Change
& Tash Sultana – Harvest Love

gentle orange light
shimmering and floating through the room.
touching your skin.
quiet shadows dancing smoothly on your face.
those subtle movements
only clear eyes can discern
flickering and reaching
to everything that’s close
or nowhere to be seen.
exhaling warm air
into a hot room
as the mind wanders to distant places
where you can ease
and rest.
although the black sky is covered
we watch the galaxies
spinning in slow motion
stars blossoming
and collapsing to dust.
coming closer
arms tightening
glowing brighter
from the inside
hearts loosen up
faces leaning in
embracing the night
until sleep seeps
into our heads
and tenderness
into our bones.



Die Lügen die du dir selber erzählst,
wir kennen sie alle längst.



[welcome to hell, darling.]


Negativity is a point of view.
You see me, as you want to.
You read my words, as it pleases you.
But if that’s what you read from my lips,
what you hear my voice whisper in your head,
then you have never understood me.
Not the slightest bit.

Negativity might not be the opposite of positivity.
Nostalgia is what you taught me.
Pause when you take this as an insult,
find the silent dreams, which lie between every line,
find the dearest pleas, which swing with every full stop,
and find hope
with every letter that stands black on white.
Now go find out what you can discover from
what you just harvested with your eyes.
Use your mind

but only kindly.



Some paths might lead nowhere,
but the views are too stunning
to be left unseen.