I lie in a dark room
The laugh-tracked comedy on the laptop screen is flickering
there is too much giggling in the background
The place I am in now has replaced the hole
where I lived for four months
my sinuous sleeping bag hides me
and preserves my warmth
but it cannot alleviate insomnia.
The rain is knocking on the window --
Despite its harsh sound, it remains consistently peaceful
I should feel something
I would expect to feel disappointment
I crave to feel some resentment
but this level of isolation is devouring my feelings
It eases the pain in that way how acids would do
by removing all pains
without leaving anything from suffering tulips
in the invisible vase on that disappeared table.
I wish to disregard noises
sleeping a couple of minutes
diving into a high-density gallium-like dream sea
but the wind is humming outside
afterwards, it is knocking and gets louder
then it's pummeling the roof
so I assume the rain has turned into hail.
Time travel would provide refuge,
so I'm leaping back
As a child, I had my own bedroom
a secure space for a smooth sleeping
Now, a gentle lullaby emanates from an old boiler
its switcher's clock vomits clinks into my ears
and a black mould blooms behind the wallpaper
If I could slumber and find repose
the world would fade to endless shades of night
which is similar to a dreamless doze's blackness
And in that, I will lose all light.
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