A Moment of Rest I feel for those who do not get a moment of rest. I have been in that place so often I do not know if rest will only come when I am dead. Those you love who do not love you back will put you deep in your grave while they keep up their bad habits. Rainfall I take refuge in the falling rain. It falls only for me. The raindrops fall on my head. I find comfort in rainfall. In the absence of rain, I take joy in solitude. I walk softly and quietly like the dead. I find comfort in anonymity. I rely on luck and decent health to keep me carrying on. I hope to remain standing. I can’t stand for falling. I find power in the word or words that save me from a life I do not intend to live. I go back to the rain. Do You Really Want to Talk to Me? Before we get to conversing and you begin sermonising you need to know that I have died for your sins and that I am followed by the sun. That means the sun is always the shadow behind my back. Do not look into my eyes because I have the devil in my eyes and I can take your soul. Before you begin to speak take all my words under deep contemplation and ask yourself do you really want to talk to me? I can do anything I want is all you need to know. I do not want to see you or to go to court to talk to some judge about my mind.
Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal is a Mexican-born author, who resides in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, and Unlikely Stories.
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