pain

rushing somewhere:
bags, money, telephone
evening – meeting
night
conversation
meaningless       bored        tired
offence turn around in my soul
hurting tears
it has to be this way
tomorrow will be better, much better
good bye for three weeks
or
maybe longer,
maybe much longer
holes in the veins      my veins
bruises on my hands
I’ve just been told by someone that I would die soon
why did I believe him?
but I did
I don’t know what the best is and no one knows
I’m grabbing emptiness with my wet fingers
I want to see the light which doesn’t exist
there are more of “meaningless”
I can kill myself more often
I forgot how to love
and somewhere deep inside of myself
I will never forgive you all
trying to help me
when I hear the wind behind the window,
I dream about the sky,
when it falls down on me with big salty drops of water
and then
breaking myself another time
I could admit: he won
and forget everything
maybe forgive
but forget for sure