Lack of sleep

I’ve had four to six hours of sleep,

in a span of forty eight.

I’m running on two.

I’m running on three.

 

One moment I’m high,

the next one I’m low.

Just an image from a long time ago

can set me off, bring me down.

 

I start to miss you,

I start to miss us,

I dread going home,

because I feel so alone.

-- By Aurora Faustini

This poem is about: 
Me

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