Chill at night

Ever get that feeling

Of talking to pastel yellow paint of walls and waving windows wondering if they would echo back to you

Of trying ot sleep face down with your hands and feet dangling, a chilling cold felt in your hands touched by the rotting woman underneath the bed

Of riding a bus, feeling a gut wrenching scene of crashing, hearing blood-curling screams, gore and flying bullets shot by the man sitting beside you

Of falling out of the train, cramped on the door with people, a hundred feet above ground

Of seeing the face of the dead you saw in the funeral coming back to you in dreams

Of glimpsing a part of your memories that may or may not happened but you knew your reliving everything, knowing how it will end.

Of people seeing you, knowing, jugding behind your back that you are living a nightmare

Wearing a mask that you show to people, trying to live a normal life

Maybe you can fade in the background

And not be seen

But who knows what you see at night

Maybe they knew, by your breathing, your twitch, your talk, your smile, your lean in the chair, your itch, your tilt of the head, your eyes

Your eyes, it’s the window of your soul

You’ve closed your eyes but the opened windows sends a chill at night