(language may offend)
They are there to erase the words“
Cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt…”
Written under my skin
The story my daddy wrote and still wants to write
Without sun, without stars, without flight
Where the paper would end up in the bin.
I know my torture bores you.
This skin is torn and stuck together again
I can turn total skin to total scar
But that is still his story – not mine
So now my skin holds sun, stars and flight
Love is coming slowly
The flesh will wrinkle, the flesh will rot
But the stars, the sun – and my story –