last night thoughts came
rambling and we had a guessing game
of what each image mean
for instance the closed door of the dorm
at 1: 30 a.m. when all of us were drank
when the fat one climbs and breaks
open a glass door
i can still hear the shattered pieces
of glass
but no one minds as everyone were
afraid and pretended to be asleep
for instance the bald prefect was surprised
making love with someone we knew inside
his room
no one likes to tell about these anymore
those secrets that must be kept
and buried in the chambers
of our ruined subconscious subways
in the morning i look at my eyes
buried in my sockets
but i always think of some advantages
about those insomniac nights
these bed for hidden thoughts
uncovered by its curious hands
those that want to be
part of who we are now
no one
not even our morbidity
erases them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very creative idea for a poem