Click, Click. It’s three a.m. I’m drifting into half sleep, praying for absolution wishing I believed in something strong and uncompromising. Like a petulant child I want answers, reasons, and an explanation of sorts. I want what I can not have. I want to disappear into sleep where all my anxieties turn into cartoons that more easily dismissed or ignored. Toss, turn, spin, twirl, the night is filled with movement even if it’s all internal. I’m exhausted.
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