Layers upon layers of restlessness,
upon layers of unburnt stars,
of overheated supernovas
and overflowing dark matter.
Poetry,
is my only refuge now.
I can’t look myself in the mirror anymore,
no reflection is looking back.
Eyes are dried out – forgotten –
almost like dying stars
we only see in our dreams.
The rooftop has fallen
on us
and our dreams,
it has ‘2020’ carved on it
and its debris attacks the silence
while we laugh at our own jokes.
If only I had time to read more.
If only I had time to watch more movies.
If only I had time to catch up on my to-do lists.
Now there is time,
but no soul to put into it.
The sky is dark,
like the inside of my room.
Words escape my mouth
but bounce back at the walls around me
and enter my mouth again.
No sounds,
No world.
My jaw is broken now,
the lines are blurred,
and stars flicker above me
in the night sky.
They remind me that life
is like Silence:
You fee it the most
when it is the only thing you hear.
Photo: Nikon F75 (28-100mm). LomoChrome Purple, 100-400, 35mm film. Groningen, the Netherlands. May 2020.