The Sleepless Nights

327
The Sleepless Nights

The Sleepless Nights

Long are the sleepless nights that I spend alone writing and dreaming about absurdities
Surrounded by books and scribbled notes scattered around the house
I wonder how much my life is real
Since it is mainly made of poetry, writings, books and music
Solitude is my constant companion
I live in my bubble of segregation
Nevertheless, I cannot live without music, art, poetry and that deep ache in my soul
Having to keep dark secrets
On the sleepless nights, I might write my poetry only for myself
Feeling like no one on this planet will ever read me
Every day I pretend to be patient and wait

Most of the time, I feel the most invisible creature in the world
With traumatic experiences and terrible abuses
I had to endure in silence and loneliness with infinite strength.
Esther Racah
2.5 2 votes
Article Rating
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments