Sleep is a fickle whore
who only comes around
when she wants something.
My mind won't be silenced
and your presence
in my dreams
is torture.
Not even a Dramamine
high is kicking you out
Reason is nowhere
to be found, the
bitch ran out on me
And irrationality took
her place, like a parasite
I want to hate you
but my heart has
already bled for you
So I guess
I'll let this run its
course and see
If i survive it..
While my self respect
Panhandles innocent bystanders
for drug money
and sympathy cards.
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