Pause

I felt this strange sensation in my joints,

That resonated through as if I were a dome,

And rattled the graveyard covered in bones,

My own asylum that I call home.

I had not felt agony or joy in long,

Sailing through rivers of indefference,

Then this sense, it woke me like a gong,

In this world of sold out innocence.

And I did not cry or howl in despair,

But hung my fears like devious crooks,

Shook all the sadness out of my hair

With a held up head like it carried books.

The tombs in me some stories hide,

None of them are told to their cause,

Buried beneath collar bones and pride –

That’s why at the end I always hit „pause”.