Fatigue creeps up on me
like a hungry bitch after lunchtime
looking for scraps of dreams
and pillow feathers to cling on.
She invites me to her bed,
warm and soft,
and gently kisses my eyelids
to a lingering state of limbo.
I let myself go between fragments
of whatifs and havetos
until I lose control.
It’s quite the fiesta,
if you know what I mean.
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I know too well (but it seems so distant now), what you mean.
the best sleep eh?