Living


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3. Black sleep

There's a heaviness behind my eyes.

A lead force, magnetic, pulling

my pupils towards its beckoning

black hole of promised warmth,

the black sleep.

 

The magnetism has not yet reached

my soft and tortured eyelids.

They float like buoys

on an inky sea of nerves

and refuse to submerge.

 

Tainted milky vision; a half blind

sunken-eyed creature of my own making

trying to find light through drowned pupils

that the triangle of my soul

has destroyed.

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