emmentaler

We are sitting in a room of stone.
Seven walls.
Room without windows.
Room without a door.
Without a roof.

I'm telling you.
You're telling me.
Nobody hears.
Stone doesn't listen.
The stone does not absorb.
The stone forgets.

We speak.
Everything we didn't dare.
Wanted.
Knew.
Which we forgot.
Throns of thorns.

Thorns sting.
Gives more.
Tears.
Blood.
Truth.
Saliva.

Give me more.
Just more.
Always.
More.
…some more. 

Lies.
Stones.
Which absorbs.
Which doesn't forget.

I get up.
You make me a door.
You always make a door.
I say thank you.
You're crying.

Sorry, but.
A lie is easier.
And you get use to the pain.
You always get use to it.

I'm leaving.
In front of the room - people.
Everyone.
Which I know and don't know.
Which I loved.
Hated.
Killed.
Beaten.
Which I conspired about.
Which I restrained.
Lied.

They're watching me.
I'm crying.
I'm shouting.
They laugh.
They're shooting at me.
With stones.
My stones.
Which absorbed.
And didn't forget.

I pierce me.
I waddle.
I stumble.
I'm choking me.

But I survive.

A louse.