Porzellanschreibt
Autorin
It’s 4 pm, and I’m taking a break at work. Holding a hot cup of coffee hostage in my hands, lost between my colleague’s chit chatter, watching them laughing and exhaling the grey coloured smoke of their cigarettes into infinite blue, I can only think of one thing. Your hands, the way your fingers were always wrapped around a ginormous glass of German beer. Your beautiful hands… I can’t help but to wish I were that glass you were holding. I wish I could wake-up and turn into a glass of beer at the local bar surrounded by the waters. Me, a skinny porcelain girl… wishing to be a big glass of beer, so that you’d hold me. Just so I could feel the warmth of your hands against my cold skin.
Maybe it was someone’s wish to be reborn as a skinny porcelain girl in their next life and now here I am. Their wish has come true and maybe mine will too.
So if someone ever asked you what it’s like to miss someone. Tell them it feels like the girl who wanted to become a glass of german beer. If they asked how do you know. Tell them Mascha said so, or Rose or Rosanna . Who cares?! Tell them you heard it from a girl. And then play them „a million miles away“ by Hanoi rocks. My coffee is cold and it’s time to go back to work. The air is pleasant and the sky is clear. I hope it rains…
Maybe it was someone’s wish to be reborn as a skinny porcelain girl in their next life and now here I am. Their wish has come true and maybe mine will too.
So if someone ever asked you what it’s like to miss someone. Tell them it feels like the girl who wanted to become a glass of german beer. If they asked how do you know. Tell them Mascha said so, or Rose or Rosanna . Who cares?! Tell them you heard it from a girl. And then play them „a million miles away“ by Hanoi rocks. My coffee is cold and it’s time to go back to work. The air is pleasant and the sky is clear. I hope it rains…
