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Oct 2010
the chain of thought
doesn’t seem to break
and streetlights doesn’t seem to fade
and the pills wouldn’t take.
the battery from the alarm clock
adorn the floor,
the faintest whisper
seems like a knock on the door,

ubiquitous anxiety
plays a tug of war
with my cousin of death,
the stares at the ceiling
grow heavy with each breath,
the page lends a shoulder
the pen a helping hand,
the highway traffic finds its way
to my ear,
and its only darkness I befriend.
insomnia
Written by
Ricknight
539
   Sarah Villaluz
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