For the first time I understand
That which keeps awake
The insomniac
A punishing mind that
Denies respite to eyes that
Continue to see beyond closure
An endless ream of memories
Tainted with guilt and humiliation;
Voices that are audible across the years
As I wait these nights for sweet sleep
I feel the pain of the sleepless
The anxiety of the zombies
A bag full of words were never enough
To fill the lines of my notebook
I need to know the secrets of stifled laughter
The tears that flee at the brush of a hand
The voices that ring with fervour
And the anger that burnt an entire city bare
These words I have lack in flesh and blood
I’d like to discard them, but
Not even the vultures will seek them
I need a device to pump life into them
To drill their reluctant innards
To scoop their filth and fill them with
An overflowing light.
Light that is smoky like ice gone dry
So cold, that they burn a hole
Through the minds that read them.
Insulted, my memories left my mind
Hurt, they left like heads of men
Hung in shame…like the silence
Of distant evenings
Their only revenge being my ignorance
And solitude…
I search with conviction for moments
I believe unforgettable;
I write down words in paranoidal faith
I remember, while not knowing, what
My mind chose to betray me.
