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Sorry to everyone that I have not been active. I am depressed. It will get better.


Insomnia

Rock me to sleep in the eye of the storm
I don’t want to see through the walls
To the dark
Suffocation, blind dedication
To a dream that has lost its edge.

August is stealing my mind.
Only sleep will heal the jagged scar
That lies inside my open eyes,
Counting the revolutions
Of ceiling fan blades in the night
And into the dawn.

“Peace, be still,” the Good Book says,
“and know that I am God.”
Is God within the hurricane?
Or floating in my crippled brain?
Perhaps he’s in the bitter tears
That flow so slow
Down the broken drain.

Herein lies madness.
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