My imagination its unwilling victim
It feeds me consistently with cups of thoughts
One cup after another
I'm not that greedy!
Let me be
It is too late
Slumber is no longer an option
My eyes are shut
My mind and soul are as wide as they can be
Guilt echoes on surround sound
My fingers twitch
These lips start to itch
But no sound escapes
All the noise
All the doubts, the worries, the contemplations
They become an unbeatable level... For now.
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