thoughts-trash

from out of space
i'm so little
non existing
no one knows
if i've ever been
but than
the glommy sunday comes
or the wednesday night
and the christmas tree
an old photo
so you know
i used to be
in the morning headaches
never wanted sweaters

the meaning changes
just as distance does
not beeing-symptom
makes only sense
when you are beeing missed

from out of space
is every detail smaller
easier to see the rest
no gravitation keeps your
intentions down
ironic free kite

but if i try to exist
and the kite won't fly away
if atlantis ever happened
i can leave