I feel love for a man who has a heart of mountains, and his stones smell of another planet.


in letters

Today i am gonna write So many lines All hidden in my chest Becasue they cant be spoken Or at least i know no one who hears them Lines which can only be written in letters

Singing birds

Most of the time Hundreds of birds inside my chest Want to sing For more than 30 years I am prisoning them. holding them tight Drown in my fear.


some days you can light fire in your heart make it flame let it go through all you and play with water a little bit and it disturbs your nature when you seek the warmth anywhere outside of your chest


everytime I see her, after a long time of not thinking where I come from, I remeber, I am born through a butterfly.

The Crown

Prince and princesses everywhere robbing the crown from each other shining dancing with it a little till the end of the night then the night is over and the crown is gone in a flash of light, their existence loses all the reasons.

The day

What are you waiting for What day is it For which you drag yourself over minutes Days Weeks Years What is that day you are waiting for?


All those teachers Disappointed in you At least once a year Oh so disappointed in you Like you had promised them anything You left their straight path of expectations For a little step away So then now they cant know what you are They can be only disappointed in you.

way to work

I took the train stamped another short trip urban ticket And came here again. without a minute of doubt, or question. like every other day if not here, I did not know where else to go so I took the train, on the right time, and a routin pill here is where I was supposed …