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November 21, 2022
"Mes de los Muertos"

Sleep

By Amanda Girard

It's about to overtake me
My body lies completely limp
My mind entirely vulnerable
Like a creature missing its exoskeleton

My eyes flick open
And I bolt upright
A warm pink blanket wrapped
Around my shoulders

It has hit me again
It's not fair, that it rears
Its rotted and repressed head
When I feel as weak as when

I walk home in the dark
One day, I will not know
What it's like to go to sleep
Or wake up from a vivid dream

I'll never feel the sun
On the back of my neck
Or the unwelcome chill of winter
I am as fragile as a glass swan






Article © Amanda Girard. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-06-05
Image(s) © Lillian Queen. All rights reserved.
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