Weep Yourself to Sleep By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

You weep yourself to sleep.

You wake up with dried tears.

You feel as if a cold

river flowed over you.

You know it is not true.

Your face does not agree.

But you feel you must take

solace in the dreams you

had. At the same time you

cannot stop the weeping.

There are too many tears.

Sleeping becomes the one

thing you are counting on.

You weep yourself to sleep

on a drunken boat drenched 

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal was born in Mexico, lives in California, and

works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared

in Blue Collar Review, Crossroads, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, The Rye

Whiskey Review, Unlikely Stories, and Yellow Mama Webzine.