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goodnight

 
It's a pleasure to remember
the long, hard wake nights
on the streets
in the dark corners of existence
where every atom of flesh and bone
becomes aware and burdened by nature -

when I'm lying here, warm
silent and cocooned
in the numbing clenched fist of night.
Guts stuffed senseless. Bones, skin,
worries about breakfast, all dead
then I snore.
Written by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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