Carnival Workers Help

From the bedroom window, the light of a lamp post. The silence of the night.

not disturb the buzzing of a mosquito, not the snoring from the next room, not the rolling rustle of leaves in the garden.

eyes, the eyes are wide open by themselves. The mind does not want to turn off, when you start to nod off, that's the thought comes back, the brain explodes into a thousand fragments that stick in your head, the pain re-opens, click eyes, open, drowned in tears dry .

Never set the ceiling for so long, he thinks. I never hated so deeply. Beam, wood beams, wood beams, wood, knot on the wood beam, wood beam.

Blind.

I hate you, hate you, get away from my head.

As I'm not there in your now

as there have never been, as there will be

:

he vanished without a trace, go away. Go

press an alarm clock, time is projected on the wall in red laser technology: a long past midnight. A car passes in the street, calmly.

not keep it up one song that turns the head, not the heat or cold, is not the uncomfortable bed.

glide the pupils on the room, on soffitto.Si turns to the wall, move the pillow, puts it back in place abruptly turns again, and again. Ceiling.

closes his eyes.

"count sheep, think of everything you have done during the day, in particular, seeks to revise what you have studied, relaxed for sleep."

But the mind wanders, moves yet-what she is doing? Cos'avrà today? "- And returns to each of his memory, the eyes are reopened, two portholes in the night, staring. Mouth down, eyes up, the ceiling looks. The memories surrounding it.

I hate a see-saw less and less convinced, to writhe in a question.

I hate you?

rhetoric, is not it?

A window lights, far away. A cat in a trash can down the road of bottles.

do not destroy any remorse, regret, a past mistake.

eyes follow the thread of a thought, just one!, Tormenting and does not let that slip into your shadow follows constant. You awaken in the morning and it bothers you at night, lonely and sad night. Watch

still damn ceiling.

"Fall, come on, you fall," the challenge "We do it over, so." Only a storm of exaggeration, so scene at all. Nothing? Nothing is nothing. But that still torment

returns, and the twists in, stomach, heart, mind in a knot concrete.

missing, missing. There's something missing. Someone.

The ceiling is there.

eyes open.

The moment before exploding, a second before you start to cry like a baby, just before exhaustion, reaches out and grabs from a shelf a large plush frog, soft.

The embraces, her chin on a spherical glass eye. He hugs and squeezes.

Frog consoles her with her smile and her sewing belly padding. His eyes were wide open and gleaming hard for him.

Slowly the thought is softened.

After knows that to be so only because it is growing.

Slowly falling asleep, close to the toy itself.