take me

pen in hand - grave before me. what now? everything is empty. all is dust, that once called out to itself. around me is a crowd of relatives, faces covered with tears of pity. and i write - i write, but not for them. this writing is insignificant; it will not sweeten the last minutes. still i write, as long as possible. wait for you - be with you. i always want to, every day. only in our love i believe, and i believe, you alone in the world will always live.

my head spins, my heart breaks. until tomorrow, until tomorrow - you love me as i love you - forevermore! 

God, perhaps, can now comprehend your smile, the expression of your starry eyes. He will now understand my prayer. better, happier - your death in my arms. i would sooner be stained with your blood, for even that is a lesser torment than watching you walk away.

i am so sad and light, my sorrow is extremely bright and it is full of you - you alone. my despondency. nothing torments, nothing disturbs. and yet, the heart burns again and loves - because, it cannot help but love.

my end was already contained in you, like the grain in the husk - but empty, worm-infested, full of ashes. my existence is filled with omnipotent disgust. forgive me, best and noblest one, for indulging in the dark thoughts that haunt me. to whom, if not to you, will i say them? who, if not you, will know what is happening in my hell? the damned pray to the heavens, i am going there - believe me, it is the shortest way to you. i will go to you sooner, whatever the cost, and cover your hands with my tears. maybe this isn't hell yet; there is nothing left to fear, no pain too great, as long as it leads me to you. and if i must tear myself apart, piece by piece, if i must destroy everything that remains of me in this world, then so be it; just one encounter, and i would need no tomorrow.

/31.12.24/