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The sky will  be my roof
The bare ground will be my floor
And the spaces between these giant trees
They will be my doors
Late night delirium clouds my mind.
I was in a deep black beautiful sleep twenty minutes ago, but now, awake, thoughtless thoughts in my head
keep fighting the peaceful outside silence that surrounds me.
I feel there is no lonelier time than 3:30 in the morning.
There is no body switch, or brain switch that can turn this inner torture off.
Although I wish there was.

— The End —