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.