i haven't slept for two days

Tired eyes wander over foggy plains, unfocused but searching.

The overcast sky casts a dreamy gloom over a face with sunken sockets and dry lips.

Ambient sounds of cars passing over the freeway wash over the furniture, soaking into tasteless, tactless, beige.

The ghost of the scent of coffee lingers on the walls.

Heavy lids begin to droop like a sinking life boat and the white noise begins to fade.

This poem is about: 
Me
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