Artistic Poet

SOME NIGHTS SLEEP WITHOUT US

When my eyes fold— they go not to rest,

they fall into rivers that flow behind the retinas 

this is a painting of unfulfilled dreams dancing in a lonely grave

 

Suffocation is the metaphor for staying awake at 2 am,

to demonstrate the image of pain 

as i await the monster folded in my bones to break fast 

depression becomes the invisible bug that flies on the skin of nights.