SKINS

2 o´clock in the morning.
I get up from bed.
With shadows moving on the wall,

I feel I am changing.

I take off my skins
the ones that make the daily me.
I leave them on the chair...

With a different face
I slowly close the door
and sneak out to the streets…


The night is everything I´ve got
with all its flavors.
A friend of buried things.
This is the time when I talk,
This is the place where I can meet myself,
where you can meet me…

The girl who brings mountains

You can be everything you want.
I heard a voice talking.
But first you have to become NOTHING...

What did I want to be?
I was asking myself,
as the rough shapeless „I“ was lying in my hands.

I felt the wind,
its wafting with every breath I took.
It opened a space.

I climbed on a hill
and called the wind
to be a part of me.

Now when I walk
I like to imagine
that someone will see
I am the girl who brings mountains…

Ink

I don´t know how you did it
And I couldn´t say it for a long time…

You came with something,
I call it an ink.

Its black bluish color feels like velvet.
Just one drop and
it ran through my skin
pouring inside the veins
penetrating every me…

Want to remember
the last moment before it absorbed me.
Cause then I was changed
like you turned me inside out…