Implosion

Outside of SleepI lay rigidly, posthumously even, my efforts are in such frustrated vain. the springs in my mattress crunch amusingly loud against themselves, a force to which my lacking mobility is no match.Outside of Sleep
my four-in-the-morning eyes watch the red digital clock move to 5:27 with a resounding, inaudable "click," and I mutter to myself, (out loud perhaps, who knows) "I wish this mattress was a school desk," and in hindsight, this was the first time in years I desired to be at school.
sleep comes more naturally under droning reverberations of integrals. textbook teach
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