SIMPLY... THE QUEEN

The Queen of The Night
However it sounds...

FEAR

Where am I?
And who...?
Wearing blue pyjamas of my Grandfather's
Firmly attached to cracked skin of mine
I link myself to the past
And I guess that I just don't know
Where to go...

Searching for answers
I look my blood into the eyes
They're dry

And why?

In front of the mirror
I'm losing my grace
Some creature made of glass
Is eating up my face...
And spitting out
My skin
Chewed up

He says - It's crap...

Praying for a friend
I kneel in a mud
And glad...
And fear
I feel

Finding few of them
Under my cars wheel...

THE BIRTH-ACHE

I cherish my mornings
Marked with
The scent of coffee seeds
Burnt till they perish

Permanent attempt for a poem
When eye's not even sure
To be awake
And mentioned coffee
Doesn't seem to make it anymore

Words linger underneath the skin
They own
Me and my tongue

Touched by the Art
Me- scared
Me- scarred
Now...
Am I healed or gone?

Did I swallow those poems?
How many of them still roam
As a chronic pain throughout my bones?

The birth-ache...

And I think my mornings merge
Into one
Almighty Coffee Break...