A Room.

I am awake.

Sleep no more. Never. Later. Always.

A room, it seems.

A jail, perhaps? Prison, detention, Bastille, incarceration, cage, cell. Confinement. Solitude.

No, just a room.

Walls, things.

A window.

No sun shines through.

No light, just a room.

With me. And things.

Sleep sounds good.

A pillow beneath my head for comfort.

One atop it for darkness.

Darkness upon darkness.

Small gap for air.

Must breathe. Or else…too much sleep.

A heart beside me.

Pink heart. Black heart.

Words upon heart.

No heart.

Only sleep.

Never. Later. Always.


About grasshopperstothemoon

“Two things awe me most, the starry sky above me and the moral law within me.”
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