insomnia

i fear the night and the silences. i fear

the lines in the walls, the cracks,

the contours in the moonlight.

i do not sleep because the sounds are gone --

the white noise fades with the sunlight,

the shadows begin their crawl.

i watch the angles in my forearm,

my right hand lying on the bed:

my body is a silhouette.

i twist and i turn --

and i turn, and the shadows are there.

(she says: my brain a narrator,

contempt, the judgement, she says --)

i fear the night and i fear the silences.

i am naked: i am lying empty;

there is nothing but the contours, the cracks;

there is the silence and the shadows,

the moonlight that traces the lines on the wall.