so much later than midnight
waking up of the weight and sweat of a messy dream
and then the brain drain…
there are times like this, later than midnights, when life sounds nothing but a short term to do list.
a broken one, the one in which you are just always behind yourself, and you have done it all grey and wrong.
the spiral to do list, giving the illusion of a path.
I hurt myself, without even bleeding
I hurt myself at the deepest places.
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