Day 19.
Sunday. Restday. Dreamday.
One switch and it’s finally dark.
Anxious dreams can’t wait to be let in, queuing in that waiting room at the border of the eyelids.
So eager to slip in, to take me over and take me places.
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Day 19.
Sunday. Restday. Dreamday.
One switch and it’s finally dark.
Anxious dreams can’t wait to be let in, queuing in that waiting room at the border of the eyelids.
So eager to slip in, to take me over and take me places.
