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.


Old love


Two familiar souls
who know each other,
who detect the brief shallowness of the eyes, when they feel insecure,
who recognize the subtle lightness of the breath, when they feel true hope,
or how their voice trembles barely noticeably, when gentle sorrow washes over them,
who know all the soft parts and all the stone hard walls that make them who they are,
who know the rhythm of each others heartbeats by heart,
the rhythm of each others lust;

who have known each other in different lifetimes,
always hoping they would meet again,
match someday
with the circumstances,
with everything that is around,
that surrounds them,
overpowers them,
with time.

There is always only so much one can know about the other.
Only so much one can love about the other.
But I feel you darling,
my bones and my body
yearn for you,
my mind
craves you.
My heart,
it indulges in you.
No matter what happens to us,
our souls will always
one day or the other,
one life or another,
find the way back
to their second home.



Not knowing what you want.
Unsure about yourself
and doubting your decisions.
Falling back in time.
Caught up in what you left behind.
Rewinding revisions.
Stuck inside your mind.
But somehow ready to move on
through the cold night.
Guessing which thoughts you need to finish,
or to finally let go.
Come on,
set your soul free.
But you’re too sad about people’s sadnesses.
Jealous of what you don’t have,
of what others have
that you’d deserve,
And possibly wished for,
for long enough,
although you’re uncertain of what you want
even so.
This imagery
of what has never been yours,
because it’s not really
Not in this life,
maybe in the next,
or the one after that.
Still tired of waiting.
Tired of disappointments
and bad feelings
and useless discussions.
Digging for those positive notions.
Those opportunities which lie underneath the ocean,
or underneath skyscrapers.
How good am I alone?
I made myself feel so good alone.
So whole.
because I didn’t depend on someone else
to make me feel complete.
And I didn’t have to want something,
or make sense of what I wanted.
I didn’t have to wait.
I know I can rely on myself.
I am my best player.
My wildest lover.
I will always hold my ground,
and only hurt myself
when it makes sense.

in all its meanings;
it stands for both,
slavery and faith.



Open to be free.
No attachments,
only endless skies.