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awaken. drag myself from this cocoon.
pull out the wires that grant me sleep.
it’s a troubled sleep, but i’ll take it.
in a foreign land with familiar tongues
must this all seem so dramatic?
as i rise to face the apocalypse the words
"i can do this" clear my throat
it will come back to me later
but just as i stumble for the words
it’s someone else’s that spill from my mouth
sated by crusts of bread and nothing
driven by something you can’t see
everyone has always wanted something
but what i want will surely never be
i know what that means
could some think that’s sane?
so lost, so long, so i forget it
so far gone now
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