I starved my soul to mental anorexia,
Denying it food for months and months, and months
day by day,
peu ; peu,
bit by bit.
Don't take too much, sweet darling!
Don't run that far,
be meek and petty,
finish the duty first
before you waste your time on creativity
of thought,
and hand
and feeling…
Don't drift too far now
that you have found an anchor
to hold and to be held in bed at night.
There, there! No childish tears
here,
take a handkerchief!
Don't be pathetic! Now,
why can't you shut your restless eyes
effectively
and rest a bit? - forever -
… Oh, soo loong slumber has it been!
How comes I know no mass, poor stupid thing I am?
If I should go for bond and steadiness,
Well then I should be steady, mind no further mental cause
but how to polster best that little holy world of matrimonial oyster-shell of joy.
Why can't I be as others are?
The soul too restless, and the mind too greedy tear me
from what my sense of social roles demand from me,
and
being
double,
triple,
multiple inside,
I;m full, but starving,
deaf, but hearing things
With cold numb fingertips I try to touch
here and there and over there
and end up
Being good at nothing.