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my bed
In the middle of the night when I toss and turn for hours my bed is the North Sea
Moonlight drenched pillows are mountainous waves around me
My sheets are seaweed, they pull me farther under
Consumed by my thoughts I thrash about the waters
I am drawn into a whirlpool, as my anxieties consume me
At night, I drown
In the morning, my blanket is the Caribbean Sea
Its waters envelop me in warm, soft waves
My mattress is sand, my body sinks into it softly
In early morning, I float

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Just a poem about my struggles with insomnia at night, and how alluring the prospect of sleep seems in the morning when I'm supposed to be getting up.