Three in the morning and the mind starts to kick ,

the carousel of thoughts closes its doors ,

the eyes are flashing lights ,

shutters torn , windows left open .



Fumes ink darken the sky ,

the skin is stretched like a drum donkey ,

syntax decomposes ,

the colors are solution solvent.



Strained molecules on the wall ,

face as white as a ghost ,

dreams that remove the desire ,

stale air in nightmares with open eyes .



Fatigue grips you ,

a feeling of chaos in the throat ,

tar in the lungs as a wailing wall ,

breathing the air that is not sleeping .