eyes closed

with eyes closed you sit again in front of the screen of your computer that vibrates.
it is time to clear certain things.
like your room.
you go to the door, tear photos off..gently..not to cause any harm
slowly rub blu-tech off
the photos beuild up a pile and the plu-tech rolls into a ball in your hand
you think about all the faces you look at and all those you dont
you sigh when noticing
that uncounsciously though,
but there is an order of the things posted up there.
some mean a lot:
these you tear off slower, hold them longer gazing at the faces and the past smiles
other you tear off as if in haste, bury them turning them upside down
again other seem unknown,
having been there but not having been looked at you wonder if they are
or ever were really a part of your life

you go to another piece of your wall
face the sticky-surfaced empty post-wall
and put on three photos connected in a line:
'light-peace-hope' that1s the title...
but since hidden behind only you know it and only you know why do you put a bookmark with a smiling cat underneath.

reaching for a colorful postcard of holland your fingers begin to hesitate
you put it in the middle, but tear it off, post it somewhere else and remain unsatisfied.
you decide to change tactics and follow insticts.
you begin to reach for photos and post them on the wall
one after the other one
very fast,
not thinking but feeling
and all of a sudden the floer-fields of holland find there place
exactly above the place where you rest your head each night.

having gone so far you face the clean door and post a heart on it.
right above the doorknob.
other than that,
you leave it empty.
just in case...
you need to fill it with soemthing:
new.