Resonating Silence

I still wake up at 5 in the morning, 

Way before the sun rises, 

Way before the wings start to flutter outside.

I still start the day, 

With sleepy eyes, 

A glass of water

And the medicine I’m supposed to have. 

I still wander about in the quiet house, 

Cooking my own food, 

Getting my own vegetables, 

Looking at the phone from time to time, 

Hoping it would ring again.

I still sit at the balcony,

At exact 7.30 in the evening, 

Having my tea, 

And I still see the kids in the opposite house 

Sit and watch TV for hours on an end.

I still start wrapping up at exact 10.30

It starts with closing the grills, the doors, the windows, 

It ends with switching off the light, get in the bed 

And staying awake for hours. 

I still close my eyes, just to hear the silence,

The bed seems a little too huge, love:

From housing 2 adults and 2 kids,

It has gone down to having just one person. 

I still talk to our kids, though,

For exactly twenty minutes, 

From the thousands and hundreds that there are in a day.

I still think, 

That I am completely alone,

And I still wake up for another day.