As I unlock the door, they peep
from the corners and wait.
Then tiptoe as shadows
and knowing that pills nor potions would help,
curl up in bed
with coffee that is salted with tears.
But I have no laws to expel
cohorts of silence that roam
all through my empty little rooms.
16 comments:
This really touches the part of our souls that knows how to hurt!
You have sad loneliness as companions who make poor bedmates. The answer is to love yourself a little bit more.
i guess we all have such rooms in my minds
aww. hope you are fine there. the voice of your poem has pathos.
Some silences are meant to be kept and salted with our tears ~
Sharp imagery Abin ~ Have a good weekend ~
Sometimes silence can really be intense & assume a personality, especially when one sees it everywhere. Oh, if only there was a way to drive it out.
I immediately thought of migraine headaches and how to cure them---with help from those who've gone before.
this time of year in particular it is hard...those shadows are rather thick...and just when doors open, they come creeeping out....well captured...
Nothing hurts more than that echo of loneliness.. And empty rooms need to be filled
One can feel the emptiness of the silent rooms. Very evocative, Abin. So poignant the "coffee salted with tears."
Those alone times that are more lonely....deep sadness here.
silence and coffee...i think i could make a night of that, minus the tears!
Sad. Well penned.
So creatively described still sorry about " coffee that is salted with tears"...
Yes, it definitely feels like a an empty house.
I love this depiction of those silences!
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