Insomnia.


​At night,  I’m afraid to close my eyes 

For sometimes,  I die in my sleep 

I’m holding a glass of wine, 

My right hand quakes, 

The glass falls and breaks, 

Contents of my life, 

They spill 

I see a reflection of a young man 

So dissolved in the worldly pleasures 

That he loses the reality in him

He drowns in grief  and regret 

What is leisure? 
I see the ghost of my friend 

Every night in my sleep 

He plays the tape  of memories we had as children 

He plays the tape of memories we were to have in the supposed future, 

I see darkness, 

Do I really want to sleep 

The only moment in my path 

That I breathe less 

And let loose in to the world,  I feel peace 

The one I escape into,  my resort 

I call home 

No judgement,

The rules play by my own hand, 

The truth is, I like this path. 
Paulo. 

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3 thoughts on “Insomnia.

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