It’s Not Insomnia.

I’ve seen every hour of the night
In the last handful of days
An array of times dressed up
Tightly in colorful ribbon and bows
Curled and pulled taut, every evening
Spiraling down and out, out and on
Staring bluntly into the pitch of night
“Hello? Are you there?
It’s not me, not anymore.”

I’m sure you felt that though
Sure you always feel that now

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