On certain days when sun’s not high, the thoughts break in, the swallows fly. In this meek blue my pain begins. And in July I discover why. It’s a greater sadness, no explanation, just a whim. I’m telling myself I’d be happier if I just had a certain ‚him‘. But I am finding out that the issue is bigger and I see myself as a blurred out figure. No words that could help, though I shout, finally. Yet no one is here, I am missing out glee. So I turn to the sea. She takes the sorrows. And me.
Gedicht und Collage von mir.