The thin line
You are always by yourself
In your eyes where I have never seen tears
there’s something like a bitter gleam
I like it
In your sightless imagination
this world is a wilderness for hunting
where you are a hunter in winter
always trying to close in on a single heart
You do not trust words
In your footprints as you have massacred every heart
I see a deep yearning for fear
I cannot stand it
Along the thin line you walk
the smell of blood sticks even to the snow
However far I move away from it
I can tell
You pull the trigger!
I die inside your words