The clock strikes 4.44. I breathe, I breathe. I am still and yet it is as if I had made a run, a run at breakneck speed. I sleep and I see it. I see her. Beautiful as always. Words, words, words, words, words. Words and voices that don’t go away. I believed those words, with and without a voice. They poison my mind. Ah my mind. A field after a battle. Swarming with things that are no longer anything. And they were everything. Enough, enough, enough, enough! A shadow. Here’s what they are. A broken and toxic shadow. Food for the night and its ghosts. Idiot! I am the ghost! A dead man who still wanders. Haunted by his nightmares. Yes, I am the specter. Idiot! It is so. I’m an idiot. But I can’t get out of it. I can’t find the damn door. Of this prison. Which is making me disappear.If pillows could talk, they will tell others how I am depriving myself of sleep, regretting past decisions while my “what if” scream in my head and they will also tell others that I wake up in the middle of sleep because I am haunted by unwanted memories, those undesirable memories that turn into nightmares. If pillows could talk, they will tell others those days when I questioned my worth, those days when I entrusted my happiness to someone who loved me and yet showed me how replaceable I am and they will also say how absurd I was to believe made up excuses for every call or every ignored message. If pillows could speak, they will tell others how often I feel weighed down by responsibilities I carry on my shoulders that I didn’t have to have. If pillows could talk, they’d say they’re sick of catching my tears every time I get scared, broken and tired because I’m weak. They will tell others how sensitive I am that I easily notice whenever there is a slight change towards me from those close to me. And if only pillows could talk, they’ll tell others I’m having a good fight, tell others how many times I’ve rebuilt, tell others that no matter how many times I’ve shed tears, I’ve never denied myself smiling and breaking my heart. life like I’m not exhausted. It’s a cycle, they burn me out, I wear out and then I get back to working.It doesn’t matter who you spend the day with. The important thing is who you spend the night with, when doubts, fears and worries are strongest. It is important with whom you spend the night because close to us you have the person who fills our heart, mends the most serious wounds and is that person who despite having seen our biggest defects has loved them all the same.
Pillows are such wonderful comforters, as if they can read inside the head laying upon them and soaked up all our tears.
They are like rooted trees just watching and listening, tossed about by the wind and rain of our feelings, a place to come and lay down be at rest, look outside the window, watch the movement of dusk and speak to the moon and fall asleep.
It’s the night time yes…
❤is that person who despite having seen our biggest defects has loved them all the same.❤
Oh thank you, some nights are so sweet that I don’t want to wake up. Other times I hear my puppy barking and then I jump out of bed and I’m afraid. Sometimes it rains and if there is a lot of wind I can’t sleep because the wind brings me bad memories. So I cover my whole head and try to forget. Sometimes I have to listen to music to calm the fast pace of my heart. Some memories are really very bad and only the music melts them and makes them go away. Have a good sunny day 😘🤗🤗
That’s true nights can be like dreams
Gentle, alarming, sweet or nightmarish.
I love the rain and the wind in a cosy place these days
But the childhood storms often comes to paint the night.
Music, so true, I can lose myself to the sound of music.
In the midst of our summer the sun won’t come out, Providence is having his way, whether we listen to the storm or not. The storm is raging.
To find our peace in the midst of it is key.
Peace to you too🌻🌺, thank you.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 
Dec 13, 2021 @ 06:14:47
Pillows are such wonderful comforters, as if they can read inside the head laying upon them and soaked up all our tears.
They are like rooted trees just watching and listening, tossed about by the wind and rain of our feelings, a place to come and lay down be at rest, look outside the window, watch the movement of dusk and speak to the moon and fall asleep.
It’s the night time yes…
❤is that person who despite having seen our biggest defects has loved them all the same.❤
To be loved like this.
Dec 16, 2021 @ 11:25:13
Oh thank you, some nights are so sweet that I don’t want to wake up. Other times I hear my puppy barking and then I jump out of bed and I’m afraid. Sometimes it rains and if there is a lot of wind I can’t sleep because the wind brings me bad memories. So I cover my whole head and try to forget. Sometimes I have to listen to music to calm the fast pace of my heart. Some memories are really very bad and only the music melts them and makes them go away. Have a good sunny day 😘🤗🤗
Dec 16, 2021 @ 12:00:57
That’s true nights can be like dreams
Gentle, alarming, sweet or nightmarish.
I love the rain and the wind in a cosy place these days
But the childhood storms often comes to paint the night.
Music, so true, I can lose myself to the sound of music.
In the midst of our summer the sun won’t come out, Providence is having his way, whether we listen to the storm or not. The storm is raging.
To find our peace in the midst of it is key.
Peace to you too🌻🌺, thank you.
Dec 13, 2021 @ 06:34:32
Love Zuccheros voice
Transcontinental melody
Beautiful lyrics and rhythm.
Dec 16, 2021 @ 11:19:19
This song is like a lulluby and talks to all hearts. Peace to you 🌺🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹💐
Dec 16, 2021 @ 11:54:07
Yes, the transcontinental feeling is too sweet
She’s my baby
A lovely lullaby