trained to be shattered
and shatter herself from within
she turns
she looks away
and gone is she
to no place on earth
to no place at all
the longing not to be
took over
and how do we know where she went
and how do we know where we’ll go
when no-one remembers
and the terror takes us in
we’re so afraid
and non-existing seems filled
with sweet promises
of no more guilt
to where do we turn
to whom do we ask
for identity
we lack it so much
do we suffer?
do we live?
her name is written in the palm of his hands
it did not vanish when she left