2.13 in the morning, 2.13.

Published February 5, 2013 by April Fox

what if i’ve
forgotten how to sleep
and all i’ll ever do it sit here
with my eyes burnt out and my skull cracked from the pressure
of my brain trying to escape
and hide someplace warm and safe
where there aren’t any bugs
or verbs
or thoughts

what if,
for that matter,
all of the verbs just stopped
being
and there were only
adjectives
fighting for position

that’s what it’s like in here
fucking insomnia
and i can’t turn out the lights.

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