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Tired
It’s 10 pm
Her eyes sink in
Her ears fill up with static
Her brain softer than cotton balls
Her body going on
Her mind drifting in the wind
Her arms swaying in the void
Her back slumps forward
Her body going on further
Her voice refusing to speak
Her hand refusing to stay awake
Her neck refusing to hold up
Her body going on further away
Light dancing on her bed
The air sits still, patiently waiting
The light scurries away to be hidden
The insects march under the bed,
Preparing for battle
Wendy blinks back, her vision from her crusty eyelids
Wendy drowns the dead skin cells with water and apples
Wendy evacuates the plaque,
Giving her red halos
Wendy exits the bleached room with an impractical boat and the mini whirlpool
Wendy wakes up after she fell asleep
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