heavy-eyed
on four hours of sleep
i am stunned awake
scraping together the moments
with a spoon at the bottom of this
bowl. I am buzzing
with anticipation on this
new day
where new possibilities
are possible. Where
my ginger-haired brother
awaits for his rushing sister
to sip the brew of tired writers
hunched over, and scrawling
in the lonesome corner
of ideals.
- “scrawling in the lonesome corner of ideals” by dubbleaa
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