3:25

It's 3:25

With this little sleep

Is it possible I'm still alive?

 

It's 3:26

Thought after thought swirls through my consciousness

It makes me sick.

 

It's 3:27

How many more times

Must I go through this... ten? Eleven?

 

It's 3:28

I turn over, forcing my eyes shut

Why am I still up this late...

 

It's 3:29

I can't stand it anymore

Want me to write what I'm thinking down? Fine.

 

It's 3:10

All of the words in my head

Pour out in the form of ink

Across the paper

I finally sigh in relief

My eyes beginning to feel heavy once more

I realize maybe what I write can be my escape

And that is my last thought

As my head meets the pillow again.

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