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The Couch

By
You hold many of my memories.
three years together.
You are the thing I sleep on every night.
the thing I slobber on when I sleep.
you are the couch.
My couch.
But its time for me to move on .
I can no longer share my time with you.
Its time for a bed,
a room,
some privacy,
a life.
But when will that happen?
Not soon enough.
I am sick of going to sleep
when everyone else is ready.
When will have I the choice to go to sleep
when I want?
When will I have the choice to read
in silence?
Not soon enough.
That’s the problem.
When will it be fixed?
Not soon enough





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