sábado, 13 de novembro de 2010

Paranoia

It's 2:00 am. The darkness still reigns by night.
The most absolute silence is not broken by the sound of
raindrops popping when it strikes the ground.
Mosquitoes fly, his acting annoying buzz
to our ears in search of blood,
for our blood so then do not come to succumb.
The drops and tinnitus are disturbing,
worthy of a torture session.
Maddening! Mad!
Looking for something that holds my attention,
but all I find myself repulsed,
making me feel ignored and forgotten.
In an attempt to attract sleep, start writing
everything I think, but the words out of order
painful of my skull take a course contrary to my desire.
Gibberish. Unfinished sentences. Imperfect thoughts.
The words we use to try to make me sleep,
make me feel seduced by Insomnia.
Into the night, she and I together as one.
Relations stunned, sick ...
Roll the bed, closed and open my eyes.
I feel more deeply than ever that agripnia.
I feel increasingly lost in the immensity
of the desperation smooth.
I wonder how long that will last distress,
anguish that seems endless.
And if this were a game, I would be defeated,
vainly try to fight for something that is
infinitely stronger than me.



Pipo Sotero

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