A Song That Jests At My Wounds

There’s this song I listen to every night to fall asleep

It tells of addiction and sweet nothings

And whispering dreams

As the first chords struck the strings in my battered bones

I hug the blankets tighter and closer and up to my chin

Staying in this state of meloncholy warmth

Of flashblacks of joys of equal buckets of pouring rain

As though sending me a note of reminder in case I forget

The dampness of my cheeks have not yet stopped

There’s this song I listen to every night to fall asleep

It tells my addictions of half-truths and voices

And a certain far-fetched distant kind of whispering dream

– a.h.

________________________________________________________

I set my timer for 1 hour, switch on Between The Bars by Elliot Smith, keep it on repeat then close my eyes to let sleep take over. But by the time the music stops, my mind is still conscious and I feel coolness on my face and a certain kind of sadness that I fear will take a lifetime to get over.

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