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Thursday, June 28, 2012

Encroaching

My mind is stimulated,

Synapses firing while my body is debating:
Wakefulness or sleep?
To hell with counting sheep,
I’d rather explode into dawn, while my covers lie in a messy heap
Piled high on the floor,
My body hungrily yearning for more.
More time. More time.
I wanna sit under a hot, filthy globe light,
Straddling my creativity,
Intently discovering my passions, 
Lamenting, “Hell, he don’t want me…”
Speckled in latex—now THAT’s a statement in fashion.
Chucking restful hours,
Each minute merely devoured,
by the night.
This shit ain’t right.
Passion put on hold from 9 to 5,
Squelching foggy dreams just to eat and stay alive—it’s hard to describe.
But tomorrow is quickly encroaching,
Now just take a deep breath, sleep, then dive.

Serena
June 2012

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