The mistake was the fault.

When I think about what I don't have a solution for,

I was found guilty, I cannot bear it,

The anger grips me, the betrayal,

What did I really do?

What am I being accused of?

What am I truly to blame for?

What am I responsible for and where is it fraud?

Where is the solution?

where is she sitting on my neck

Where am I supposed to take it seriously?

and where can I secretly laugh about it,

Where is the reason that speaks so clearly to me?

when the solution in the middle simply no longer meets,

The beginning is the end, the story is written.

But the mindful rapid lag has stayed in my mind.

to grasp its accessibility,

to appreciate what lies ahead in order to find the courage

which you need to reflect who you are,

a cheeky brat

as she was, lives and is...

From snotty cheeks