Our souls don’t sleep at night.

The Somnambulist by NataliaDrepina

Time they said… Time will heal all wounds but they lied.

 So, you go on, with your broken parts, trying to find someone to fix them. No one can fix, or heal, or bandage you.

– What about me?

-Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds? If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked. I know you can kiss my wounds with your soft lips that can numb them. But the numbness is not forever. Because to heal, you have to get to the root of the wound and kiss al the way up. The only thing that could heal that deep scar is me by taking you there.

– Do you think you are strong enough?

– Stronger than you. I know by looking into your eyes. I can see frustration, nervousness in your red veins; you can’t hide your sad part. You are transparent. Whenever you feel you can be happy, sad, joking, high. But for me, I am always a happy smile with sadness in the eyes. The good part is, nobody looks there to see.

–  Why are you always happy?

– I am not. I am just stronger. My soul is a hidden piano that plays at night by a blind little girl. My soul is crying while I sleep. He is mourning in quietness so nobody can see, hear or feel. Crying without words, in peace. Slow, as a late rain in the middle of the summer. He is letting go all my pretended smiles, all my thoughtfulness, all my issues, everything that my body is trying to deceive. Down to the river, while everyone falls asleep.

He is doing gently because he doesn’t want to wake me up. He does not know that tears sometimes leave marks on my face. This loneliness of my soul crying at night is like a balm for the wounds in my soul.

Published by daianapirgaru

Hello, there! My name is Diana. I am from the Republic of Moldova. Moved to the United States in 2016, and started from the beginning. I was born to inhale words instead of air, to have ink instead of blood, to live thousands of years everything people live in a moment. Since I remember myself, I had this deep connection with the moon, autumn, and woods. I was the sensitive child in the family or the weirdest one. I discovered my passion at an early age, but my wings were broken since I was in high school. Didn't stop flying. Moved to another planet, where I had to learn English from the beginning. I am an overexcited person who adores words and struggles with grammar. I write gritty short stories, novels, and poems, holidays articles, etc. Besides that, I am a student and a MOM.

One thought on “Our souls don’t sleep at night.

  1. Hi daianapirgaru. Great to meet you. Writing is my passion that keeps me sane and alive! Like all things Paranormal! Observing this crazy violent virtual reality society! Conspiracy theories and the truth within! UFO’s fascinate my inquisitive mind! One day at a time for me!#TheFoureyedPoet.

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