deconstruction

that full moon out there baby
it's driving me mad
up to the brink of complete destruction
turning my thoughts in
to the dark

into the chaos
lies power
and power lies like no other

baby tonight
the world is filled with madness
chaos nibbles at the edges of thought
hoping the speed of the slideshow
will cover the mess

amass all the moments you find
to somehow be left with nothing
not enough time to focus
when life floors it
and people meld together
in a neverending string of flailing hands
desperately reaching for comfort

into the dark
turning my thoughts up
to the brink of complete destruction
baby it's driving me mad
that full moon out there

quantum mechanics

it's simple when you're on the outside
perched up high on a scaffold
the world looks less complicated
and judgment is easier to dispense.
a vantage point and a looking glass
and all of the sudden
patterns emerge from the mundane
neatly drawn like map lines.
things get complicated
when your eyes turn inwards;
thoughts follow without falter
and soon enough clarity is gone
your heart strings are left in knots
and your brain grasps for reason
while the world turns swiftly
into quantum mechanics.

and then you're left there
feet dangling above the abyss
eyes glazed and speech impaired
running a labyrinth of your own making.

Standstill

some while ago I was trying to pinpoint the exact moment when time started flowing so fast
i could barely remember how it was like before the ouroboros of deadlines,
the rash decisions and
the constant white noise headache.

and i know i wanted it back
the standstill
the near catatonic slow down of time
and then it happened

i inhaled and by the time i took my next breath a lifetime had passed,
history ran its course,
worlds died and were rebuilt

i remember the pain
spreading like wildfire
as my lungs were contracting
desperately reaching for the next gasp

i remember people screaming
but i couldn't make any sense of it
in all that rumbling noise
of collapsing atoms

there it was:
time stood still
in between the spark and the flame,
in the IV drip,
between the verse and the chorus,
trapped in the after-candles.

and then the world just kept on spinning...

Delirium

i'm like an addict in an opiate den
fumbling for my sanity under smoke clouds and other lost souls
trying hard to remember what it was like before
the moaning and the everlasting free fall feeling.
my senses dulled...
some of them up to the brink of complete extinction
words fail me more often now
as my voice cracks under pressure
their words hit the target just fine, though...

when did it all become so muddy,
I wonder
for how long has it been raining?

;)

we give and take.
it's a never ending cycle
that keeps us stuck on each other
in the best way possible.

this is how it works:
first, she cleared some space
in her pink feathery living room
and in her mornings
for his black drum kit.
now, he cluttered her day
with gifts and all his love
and that smile of hers
made it all worth it.

make sense

take a deep breath and dive.
wouldn't that be nice
would it not be perfect in its simplicity
wouldn't you just like that?

that bitter taste on the tip of your tongue,
that constant headache that won't subside,
the gut wrenching fear circling you,
that scream you've just stifled
or the way your wrists burn
because the rope finally cut into the flesh.
I wish I could tell you it's all in your head
but we both know I'd be lying.

scattered is an understatement
and at this point
metaphors don't do much for the soul
so why bother?
why try and make sense of it all
when sanity is clearly at stake
and the weather man is forecasting hailstorms?

because ego is stupid like that
and sheer stubbornness trumps the preservation instinct.

too many

how far
can you stretch out your thoughts  until they snap
like rubber bands kept in the scorching sun
how long
can you maintain this smile you have
until the cracks start showing thin and dark
right at the corners of your mouth
then running up into those tired eyes
how hard
is it to keep this mask
when fingernails are scratching at the edges
how many
sleepless nights will you count still
how many of them etched down in your ledger
how much
it takes from you to keep
all of the darkness bottled up
how many graves are there to dig
for all the remnants of your past

down the rabbit hole

can you not feel it?
curiosity nudging you to take a peak,
to search for answers
even behind closed doors...
especially there.

I have this weird thing
when I look at a door:
I can't help but be curious of what's inside.
who lives there?
how is it decorated?
are the rooms flooded with light
or do they hide in the shadow of their curtains?

I think you figured that out about me
and you left your door unlocked on purpose.
you knew I couldn't stand not knowing
what's behind the brick wall
so you left the hallway light on.
all I had to do was follow and sneak inside.
it was the best ride down the rabbit hole
with all those corridors twisting and turning
weaving in and out into endless loops,
wonders hidden behind every corner.
I got lost a couple of times
but I felt so at home that it didn't matter.