niedziela, 27 lipca 2014

Dead season.


Every Monday
I check if you're alive
I put my forehead
on your wrist
and wait for pulse

I bring you flowers
for I know
you deserve the best
Will you put them
in the water
or throw them away

You hardly ever
make a sound
your words stuck
close to the pillow
'cause maybe
somebody will come
put her forehead
on her wrist
to check if she's alive

I have a bird in a cage
When i open it
it's afraid to fly
I feed him
with the best I have
with the waste
that I hate

What am I doing here
waking up
in the middle of the night
who is rocking
back and forth on the floor
with sunflower's seed
all over her mouth?