god. i don’t have time for this.

 

but increasingly

i’m burying myself

in quiet starlight.

 

vaguely

dizzy.

 

feels like falling.

 

smells

like you.

 

pages

flipping.

 

god. i don’t have time for this. i already barely have time for breathing.

 

but i

flip

the pages

anyway.

 

but no

one moves.

 

river

trickles.

 

softly.

 

feels like

being numb.

 

but in

a good way.

 

feels like

i’m not

fighting someone.

 

for a little.

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