Wreath of thoughts

You are alive, right here, right now, breathe!/
Ah! The smell of mangoes, ripe and swollen with  its juices, hanging above the whitewashed door/the bees, watch out! It might sting the baby in the crib/ he’ll cry, cry and cry, day long, not easy to shush a babe/ there wasn’t anyone to shush me when I cried, standing by the pieces of broken glasses as they fought endlessly,  I coiled up like a snake and slept/sleep; a cure deprived to a weary mind/ the winged anxiety keeps pecking on my head, drilling its way and nibbling my brain/ I had no brain, said the fifth grade  fiend sitting on her fat ass, I was fighting a losing battle with ruthless numbers that besieged me/I missed my best friends birthday, she must be mad, I’ll gift her the Versace Dylan Blue Pour Femme after I’ve saved enough/ ‘Diamonds and Rust’, Joan must’ve loved him with a full heart, as I love him, I must gift him cufflinks, too!/ I must sleep now, the room is treacherously silent, it must be conspiring against me, again the palpitations, sleep, sleep, sleep! Waking up tomorrow would be great.

©wordpolitics

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