Midnight Miseries

Can’t write. Can’t sleep. Can’t wake up.
The illusion of righteousness when awake.
The next moment of disappointment that follows.
Feet takes me to the food cooling hollows.
The heart is waiting to be delighted.
Brain sighs ready to be refuted.
Eyes search for happiness. Tummy awaits calories. Bum just wants to sit.
But why can’t they see? Why aren’t the specs on? Eyes look down to nose ridge.
Nose is bored and greezy. ‘I don’t care missy!’ it cringed.
Legs are sleepy and pretend to be drunk.
Gets us bumped into hard chunk.
Everyone’s annoyed and accuses the Eyes
‘Shut the fuck up’ the Skin sighs.
By then we’re already back to the bed.
‘Chuck it!’ everyone said.
‘Can’t write, can’t sleep, can’t wake up’, I sleepily declared.


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