Reverie

Half awake I hear the clock and the calendar having a fight. The clock was uncertain whether to strike one or thirteen, and it irritated the calendar. They fight every night after I go to sleep. They don't know that I always listen. No longer interested I give in to sleep But as usual its not sleep that comes. I fell myself drowning, but its not water that's fills my lungs I fell that I am being swallowed by this monstrous beast. This beast has no breath of fire, Its not loud, has no wings, no sharp claws, long teeth, red eyes, nothing. I slide down its belly Its not fear that I feel, Maybe an extreme sense of loneliness, or is it boredom? I can no longer tell. This beast, blank and featureless is my town perhaps, or is it a country, or a house, A room, a bed... It's not the darkness that hides the beast, Nor the thunderous clouds or the tallest trees. The TV was on, in the other room I go deeper and deeper The fight ended, I dont know who won, with my ears still fixed on the TV I go down, possession, possession The calendar made some noise, The clock like always, was silent B. Depression and sadness