sleeping standing up


In ways of sleep walking

 i see myself in abiss that is my soul.

In the cold remains of your neglect.

In the sorrow of a broken heart

 and the odours of bodies well spend.

Do i even sleep standing up ?

My broken laughter ecoes in the empty house

 a  step away from madness, i cry loud in rage .

Wishing never to cross paths with you

and now another soul is added to this equation.

      Our son...


The End

141 comments about this poem Feed