Where your pain is, there your heart lies also.

My poems are more my silence than my speech. Just as music is a kind of quiet. Sounds are needed only to unveil the various layers of silence.

I am that which lies beyond time. Like a melody, which sounds completely only after the last note is played.

I write in order to comprehend, not to express myself.

Tell me what's the difference

I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on another level of being.

This morning I suddenly catch myself: I'm not there, I'm so lost in thought, I don't know what's going on around me. Can you think yourself to death?