Do you know the noise of the early morning? All the nothing
the screensaver rescuing the mind from sleep but still wandering.
All the wires tangled on the floor. Not many, but still disorienting.
It must be room temperature outside. Inside your head it’s all hot and sticky.
I don’t know how you feel tonight, or any night. Everything seems frozen.
The atmosphere is not a result of the humidity; it’s only something wrong with your receptors.
Earlier in the evening I was looking at clouds. I was not being facetious when I told you of the peculiar shapes they made.
I don’t want you to be in that place without me; I feel like you’re not telling me what you’re really thinking about sometimes.
I feel like a child.
I’ve had enough of this so that’s why I have to leave here and be with you.
I feel like…
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