not sure what side we're on
waxing, waning
doesn't matter
result is the same
i'm wide awake while the world sleeps
covered in a thick blanket
crusted with ice
dormant and cold
seemingly life-less
and here i sit
unable to escape my own head
tormented by racing thoughts
urges for production
a restless-ness with being still
wanting to sleep
wanting to start fresh tomorrow
how to slow the gears
put thoughts at ease
remember the day is over
a new one merely waits for me
threatening to arrive unanounced
should i not close my eyes
slip into a sound slumber
must find the right concoction
to shut off the machine...
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