a cold room.
black, blankpolished walls,
small is it and long.
it's got no ceiling
and is opened above
wide to infinity.
though no sky, no nothing behind.
at the end of my bed a consumed,
tall, thin, old woman in black.
a mirror exposes my age.
i am old.
the old woman cares about me without love.
serves food to me, dresse me.
i'm not hungry.
i'm too weak to speak.
the woman acts soundless.
i don't ask, why.
i don't care.
from above sounds thunder.
dumb and far away.
i don't venture to look.
it becomes black in the deepness of the room.
i'm getting fear.
i remember slightly.
i'm getting fear and stay calm.
i have always been in that room.
as i always had that same fear.
and as i always have been that old.
and always that woman.
i know for sure now that i have always been only here.
i only question: what went on?
i believe it didn't ever happen anything.