#2040

The vacancy that you
wake up with every morning
sticks to your skin as if
that’s all it were born for.

You’re the echo as conversation dies,
the kettle that someone left on for too long.
As alarming as it is, you place the neglect
beside your weary head as you return
to the only state that will not betray you—

sleep.

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2 thoughts on “#2040

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