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swirling dreams like heavy black crayon lined puffs...
where the edges are stark, but the details can't be made out.

reminds me of everything i know when my eyes are open,
but showing me the right way the events play.

i never knew what a mirror of myself i'd find under my desk.
maybe i'll stay there more often.


i haven't left work in two days. too scared of what i might not find at home...

much as i despise going to work, it erases my head for a few hours.
but what will i do when the work is gone?


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