Poetry

It’s 6: 35 in the morning
I wake up sweat and breathless
Thoughts pounding my head
The ramblings of my brain
Wanting to come out live through ink
I slip my hand to look for you
Then, instead my hand touches
The folded sheet on the pillow
Damned you!
Damned you!
I slip my hands between my thighs
The early sun set hit my eyes
Through the thin curtain window
Allow my eyes to close
The memory of the beautiful night
Shivers my body, then I get angry
Hear my heart cry
God of misericord
Why must it always have to be this way?
Like a hit and run situation
Like a Doctor’s visit
You come and treat my pain
And then hit the road
Never once have the chance
To wake up cuddle in your arms.
To cry our joys of the night passé
To gaze into each other’s eyes
Share a good morning kiss
Or drink a morning coffee together
Never mind!
O’ ma tête me fait mal
C'est comme une piqûre d`aiguille
ça me fait si mal, si mal
Dans ma tête...
I try to think of something else
Still my thoughts want to
Transcribe on paper and
Here is my endless story (…)
Patricia Etienne