memorybody | yellowed rooms | a poem

a man sits on his sofa

he sees the whole room

everything that moves

and hides from him

a woman takes his place

loss never leaves the rooms

that were built

*

I remember you as a child

in the midst of all things

with a smile on your face

what you did never crossed

my mind

*

what does it mean to trust a smile?

*

I never thought that I would experience

the world anew, without you

*

hand on my shoulder

*

there is a man outside

on the streets

drunk

the only one

he can barely walk

he looks so small through the window

but she knows

she knows

that he is a giant in the house

a ghost that fills every single room

*

I look at my mother’s pictures

and think

what did they take from you?

and

how do you get it back?

*

he eats in anger

he breathes in anger

I feel his insides in my stomach

and I eat, can barely chew

what he put on my plate

and I fought for it

one wrong gesture

or sentence

and the plate will break

*

there is a sick man at the table

head of the table

he doesn’t know

he never does

he becomes my normality

the sick head of the table

lurking

cutting meat

leaving peels of fruit

on the wooden table

leaving sleeping sons

on the floor

fully dressed

fully neglected

we ask for love in every corner of the street

*

a woman falls asleep in the middle of a room

asks me whether I want more cake

a woman in the middle of a crowd

looking for a midnight snack

and I’m so sure that I’ll never lose her

I have all the images that I can get

*

I hide behind my brother

to feel close to someone

*

I seek out my sister to mock the world

*

I remember my brother

and my entire body hurts

*

I demothered myself

because of the way my sister would look at me

*

parts of me

versions of me

are so hard to look at

*

I write with ghosts around my head

“Liebespaar (Selbstdarstellung mit Wally)” by Egon Schiele (1890-1918)

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