THERAPY SESSION

forty-four » w i n t e r

the flowers outside my windowsill
i can't ever compare myself to
are blooming in deepest winter, still
how i wish my colourless wings
had the same faint touch of azure blue

the cake inside my oven
i won't eat a single piece of
has in my heart dried out the ability of loving
how i wish this fragile heart
had left at least a single trace of love

the pain inside my stomach
washing over me like waves
is slowly letting bad memories come back
how i wish the endless shore
would drown me in an ambitious race

i seem to cope with all words spoken about me
but the way i address myself
has lost any trace of respect