Inter-view 93

So you want to see my darkness and how dark I could be?

(No, don’t go there. Not again. We really shan’t.)

There was a time in which all the roses were calm, eclipsing to the sunrise as they waved to the moon goodbye.

.

When and where did you get lost?

(Is it true?)

When and where did you change the course?

I think I said, “I refused to be destroyed.”

The rose followed the light, never the worm-like eyes, never the garden of thorns.

.

What did you find? Were you satisfied?

Colors everywhere, in all directions

(it used to be only –merely— black and white (and eyes))

the bunte Realität that for many years I refused to see.

.

But show me and show me, show me your darkness!

I don’t really want to go back there, I really don’t.

For it’s like a never-ending hole that keeps you sucked in,

untamed but stranded

unable to move

(to breathe)

.

“Hit me hard, hit me deep… Have you reached my core?”

.

Let me see at least a bit, a little bit.

Just a taste.

Just to get a feel.

Did she ever give a fuck about anything else besides her limbs?

.

“No, we are alone. You don’t need anyone, anyone, but me”

“I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you free…”

.

The cost was huge.

A broken soul, a senseless being.

No empathy, no drama, no mercy

On anyone, but particularly on me.

And somehow

–somehow—

that makes you feel strong:

(undefeatable)

(unreachable)

(untainted)

But the truth is you’re there, all alone.

(Alienated and sinnlos)

What is all this in aid of?

You have no clue.

You look for an end.

Every day.

Every night.

(Day after day; night after night.)

But courageous you are not.

And deep inside you know:

You’re not under control,

But him/her/it,

The Doppelgänger(in)

that cuddles your ears for a chance to live.