Every winter is colder as well as each heartbeat louder.
Each noise less harmonic
and more like that of the hands of the clock.
Nothing felt real
not even at times.
It was finding peace by not feeling
and it was sleeping to evade.
Just an hour's sleep, getting into the shower, I vowed never to pick a fork against my skin again but in the meantime, the hot water on my sensitive skin tried to thaw my body from loneliness.
Miss the voices that somehow calmed the storm,
the hugs that made me wear
only a sweater without feeling cold.
But it seems like a long time ago.
YOU ARE READING
We bleed through words
詩歌I might say I'm writing what I feel, the feeling of driving in a highway sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes tired, sometimes blasting the mood, sometimes just the calmness and sometimes happy. Writers are often given the gift of being specta...
