On Monday we’ve met
On Tuesday we danced
On Wednesday we left
On Thursday we returned
On Friday we stumbled and then we burned
On Saturday he looked so very sad, I was only silent not to go mad
On Sunday Christmas Eve I broke apart
On Monday my illusions ate my heart
On Tuesday we were a fairy tale
On Wednesday a distant thought broke our fragile routine
On Thursday each of us reflected a long forgotten dream
On Friday we enjoyed the weekend to begin.
On Saturday we got on and stocked our smile
On Sunday I smelled again the musty air of autumns’ falling leaves
On Monday sun glazed upon ice covered crusty snowfields, I could hardly breeze
On Tuesday new year’s eve made me think for a while and then plan for some resolutions to pile
On Wednesday it was March ---- then beloved spring
Three days later on a Thursday I celebrated my birthday again
On Friday I remembered my illusion born dreams
On Saturday I told my best friend: "I wonder about my new choices
Wanted to follow my inner voices. Aimed for something to care as much, tried so hard.
But it seemed, all efforts were thrown back to start. Nothing really allowed me to be as intense and deep.
What's left it immediate inner silence the minute I remember for a second and the inability to speak."
On Sunday I was aware of vain fights, born to continue my dances and cope with the lies.
On Monday I fell asleep with my choices, torn by my voices
Dreams struck dumb while screaming for hold
On Tuesday I knew my life had a truth never been told
On a Wednesday years later I stumbled upon an old scar,
touched it carefully and wondered, why it never really healed, being
cut by another weeping heart breaking apart.
Die Jagdgöttin
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