applemouth

Meine Seele ist zart und doch auch schwer Und die Schwere gibt ihr Kraft denn niemand kann sie verrücken Im Frühling pflückte ich die schönsten Früchte meiner Seele In einen Korb gelegt schenkte ich sie ihm Bevor er alles vertilgen konnte hing sein Auge schon anderswo Angebissen   platt getreten lagen sie da auf dem heiligen Boden meines Reichs Verwunderung und Zorn in meinem Blick ich sah zu wie er eine neue Seele um Früchte bat wie ein Hungernder mit pathetisch zitternden Händen Lange stand ich da mit dem Korb an meinen Füßen Mir wollte der Sinn nicht erfassen welch Hässlichkeit ich eins

Today, I felt the audience's attention on me - without thinking what it would be like if you were here. Yesterday, I understood that I had to push through the moment - and I could finally lift off your heavy weight from my shoulders. Lately, I've been starting to look at couples without disgust or mistrust - because not everyone is as unhappy as you with it. Furthermore, I see that I lack nothing without you - I had fooled myself into thinking you were the answer. All this time, I keep on re-learning that my sexuality is pure and mine - not yours, who laid your dirty fingers on it. Finally, I admit that you forced, pushed and manipulat

Dear L, Smile for me again. Please, look at me while I pretend not to notice and quickly turn your head when I glance your way. Just let me hug you again and say something awkward simply for the sake of talking to you. Let me see that serious look on your face again. Let me watch you read. Allow me to tease you about the way you're sometimes so earnest. Throw an irritated look at me when I talk to another man. Talk in your soft voice to me or someone else, I don't care, just let me hear it. Pretend to be angry at me so that I can throw a pseudo-tantrum and we can play that cute game once more. Your eyes, your thoughts, your question

In a place far away from here, there is a knight. He holds his head up high and his sword even higher, as he storms into the battle. Proudly he looks at his scars and wounds, but never shows them off to women. This man is one of a kind. He is not interested in losing, nor winning. What he enjoys is simply the fight itself, though he chooses to fight only for what seems right to him. If need be, he will lose his life. He is willing to endure anything because the cause for his determination gives him all the strength he needs. His soul is a well: the strength never stops flowing, and when one thinks the well dried up, from somewhere no