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Sometimes
Staring at the blood-red digits on my
clock, I lie on my bed, waiting for the night
to embrace my body and lay me to rest, yet
thoughts and wants harass my mind…
I yearn to skydive–
without a parachute, the wind
peeling back my skin as gratifying release
rushes up to greet me.
I wish a disaster would strike,
a tornado, a massive meteor,
large enough to obliterate humanity
or at least utterly shatter
the boring tempo of this uneventful life.
I want to destroy the world,
watch its ashes crumble within my pallid fingers,
listening to the satisfying sound of society
disintegrating, while I smile, gratified.
I wonder why I think these things,
these late night desires, chaining me
to consciousness. Maybe next time
I won’t drink so much coffee before bed.

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