Justyna Stanisz

My cold black hole

Screaming without a sound.
My head is whirling, lost thoughts all around.
The glass shatters,
but what does it matter?
No one notices anyway,
me in my dark cold black hole.
And no, I can’t face the day.
And no, I don’t want to reach any goal.
The cold wind blows my feelings away.
And though,
everyone has one’s own hole,
they manage to crawl out somehow.
And somehow I’m not allowed.
So far away from life.
I’m torn up and broken down.
Daydreaming and I dive
and suddenly I don’t feel alone.
Demons guiding me through my dreams,
turning into nightmares.
I breathe in the dead air.
It really isn’t as it seems.
How dare you blame me?
Your rules and theories don’t work down here.
Maybe I dug this hole,
but they cut off my wings,
so I can’t fly away anymore.
But I doubt you understand these things.
I’m at the end of my tether.
But it’s better you stay away, don’t come hither.
I’m crying myself into pieces, tears turning into blood.
Sick lullabies, broken dreams, myself is all that I’ve got.
Red raindrops pouring down on what once was my pride.
Or could it be that I just try to hide?
In the end it’s hard to say
whether this is my refuge or my prison.
But actually I don’t see any reason
to answer this question today.
Written 2006


Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Justyna Stanisz.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 04.09.2006.


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