Winter Nights

It is a cold night, December night, one of my lonely winter nights. I am wrapped in a black shawl,with a book in my left hand,sipping coffee from my utmost used cup. Coffee whose smell is hazard like love and contaminated like sin. When I sip in black liquid only thing I feel is a gulp of fear in my throat. With every sip I take in fears. Fears of living,fears of losing,fears of dreaming and fears of loving. I look up at sky,black foggy sky,threatened by infinities my eyes start sobbing. When tears wander through my soft skin and when they slide at my red lips I take another sip of coffee,another sip full of fears. I wipe my face,hold my book and began to read words, words which fade slowly and swiftly. A spark of memories produce eradication in my eyes and I burst into tears. Leafs of my book soak my tears,cold breeze hit my body and I try to find comfort in my shawl,warmth of my shawl happens to be a condoling agent. I clean my cheeks, rub my eyes. Memories run like a film in front of my eyes. My dry throat demands another sip of coffee thus in one sip I swallow every drop of it. I can feel every drop in throat. It stays there and I know it is meant to be there. It creates a space in my throat. I can feel my self in a center of a sphere filled with all my scary memories, I can feel tears in my eyes, ocean of my eyes blankets everything around me so I rub my eyes, look at my cup my empty coffee cup, it starts screaming. My empty cup tell me that all my lackings lead to such lonliness. When echoes of my cup ressurect loneliness,warmth of my shawl burries it. When wind threatens me, book soak my tears but taste of coffee remains fresh and with that contagious taste I crawl into bed.