and in all these moments of joy
exstasis repeated, lost and restablished
there was always something bitter
something reminding, something knowing
something bland, something dull
since I live alone
incomplete
and all these moments of joy
couldn't revive what was dead
couldn't fill what was emptied
and when the pain was gone
only numbness remained
YOU ARE READING
SKIES (poetry)
PoetryA short but growing collection of my poems. I write for myself, to deal with my environment, to capture my thoughts, to tell and retell stories I live or dream. There is no specific genre of poetry I will commit to, there will be reflections on the...
