Sun hides from my view,
find truths that aren’t new.
Feel like a child, cold,
seeking for comfort.
But the sun’s gone,
Feel the memory of pain,
of craving love I could not gain.
The wish is old and rude,
not my loss is others’ loan.
Every freedom time’s so frail,
this is it, the purest mood:
I just want to be alone.
Don’t pretend you could’ve saved me,
I am scared down to my bones.
This is a poem I wrote after my return from in 2012, where I . Coming home, I was overwhelmed by the . And by the cold demeanor of Germans. And overwhelmed by the sensation of having known freedom and now being back in the cage, in a room of my mother’s flat. At that time, I had seriously considered – in some form – living with my forever, to make her happy, out of guilt.
I like this piece a lot, because it is honest. Yet it is not one of pity. It is one of loss, acceptance and apprehension. One of devastation, but not one of hopelessness. It is not a piece of intellect, but one of understanding. It uses simple words, yet the right ones. It’s not complex, but profound. This is one of the best poems I ever wrote. Probably because it was written at a turning point in my life.
This piece I created in a very unhappy, yet tranquil state of mind. Two months later, I moved out and began my own life.
Do you have a piece of art that you conceived in a time of change? One that reminds you of an important moment? Please share.