Routine

Why did you have to go through all that hell

To get to paradise?

Is it paradise?

How would I know?

Who insisted that we had to believe in paradise?

Who so wisely tried to prevent us from getting crazy?

I am all the same

But I try to behave myself

Why did you live that hell before, during and after during again?

And I kill myself a bit everyday so as to stay away

But those sudden visists of sanity drive me mad

And the constant confusion reigns

Because that’s what I learned

Ever even when innocence made sense

Why did I have to be witness to your hell?

Why do I inhabit here yet

And I kill myself a bit everyday so as to forget

But that never helped

Will never help

At times when I look at his little beautiful face…

But I also look at the self in the mirror

And tell her cry no more

And while I dry the tears

I cheer her up

With the old statements, like

I could take the new path

There is always a new path, the chance

The choice

But if I took that path just 30 centimetres wide

Up in the highest mountain

Any wrong step would make a fall into calling flames

So I kill myself slowly

Knowing that does not take me to paradise

Not even for a second

Will not make the approach faster

If only I could go to sleep and then

No then, no then what

No questions

No judgements

No more stress

This stress

Killing me little by little every single day

Killing me slowly

Tomorrow you’ll have to go on again

In the hope that the attack is softer

And you’ll clean the house and buy flowers

So that the killing is less harmful

And for a moment you’ll believe something is worth it

And so you can smile

And pretend everything’s ok

Just like yesterday

Despite his farewell through hell...