Tell me where it hurts

Chaos in my mind. A highway of unprocessed thoughts, mingling. Crossroads, country roads, forest paths, dark alleys. Not enough time to explore them all, I’m losing myself. Bad temper, a bad rage.

Ich dachte, das Leben sei einfach geworden. Lebbar. Überschaubar. Unter Kontrolle. Aber es brodelt. Es bäumt sich auf. Es gibt mir den Einklang, die Poesie zurück.

Die Sprache

Tell me where it hurts, she’d say. Stop howling. Just calm down and show me where. But some people can’t tell where it hurts. They can’t calm down. They can’t ever stop howling.

Margaret Atwood, ‘The Blind Assassin”

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