my nights are days and my days bleed into sleepless nights and I play bubble balls until my eyes hurt mistaking this for sleepiness. I drink coke and feel my heart race because I gave up caffeine months ago. Self sabatoging masochistic behavior. I laugh at my own silliness but pine for the sleep I desire. How did this teeter tot up? I want it to teeter down. I want to get off, quite frankly and go back to dreaming of flying with boys and visiting ice sheds on beaches and eating steaming hot dogs on cold mitteny days with friends I know only in dreams...
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Pole bachit, a lis chuye.
The field sees, the forest hears
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