. LONELINESS

People
don't understand me,
they understand so little
that they don't even understand
the fact
that they don't understand me.

I cannot communicate
my feelings
to anybody.
I cannot even communicate
the fact
that I cannot communicate
my feelings
to anybody.

My loneliness grows even more,
because everybody thinks
that I have lots of company.
They don't know
of my loneliness.

My isolation is so big
that nobody has ever seen me.
What they think is me
is only their projection.
They don't even know
that I exist
because I dare
not to be the way
I am supposed to be.

What is even worse
they are convinced
they see me
and they know me.
Therefore
they are incapable
of seeing
that nobody sees me.

People lie so much
they even deny they're lying.
They refined falsehood
to the point
that they even deceive
themselves:
They believe
in their own lies.

Nobody accepts my freedom.
I don't even
have the freedom
to say
that I don't have freedom.

This gives me
profound sadness.
But they don't
allow me to be sad.
They say
it's a disease
called depression.

Eventually
this ongoing condemnation
makes me so mad
that I forget my sadness.
But profound anger
is called disease, too.

Finally
I give up.
Whatever I feel
is repudiated.
It's no use.
I don't do anything
any more.
I give up.
This is another disease.
withdrawal and depression.

I give it one last try.
Let's forget all problems.
Let us live and enjoy life.
My god
they already labeled this, too.
They call it a manic phase.

Who knows?
Maybe the real disease
is blaming and condemning the other
constantly
and deciding which feeling
he ought to feel.

Mario Heilmann
P.S. Thank God I myself did not go through all these phases, but I dedicate this poem to those who did.