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Grandfather clock
Sitting on the floor of your room
you hear the clock crying midnight.
You hadn't realised you had been sitting there
since 9
when your world went to sleep.
When your friends sleep
your mind wanders, searching
for sleep that has hidden under your bed,
along with the other monsters created in your head.
These are the monsters your mother had never
looked deep enough for when she tucked you in at night.
She said monsters weren't real.
You've lost track of the grandfather clocks tears a while ago.
And your vision begins to blur,
too blurry to make out the twisted numbers by your bedside.
You hear the wind howling in your heart,
battling with the dead leaves piled up along the floor.
Your eyes are growing heavy,
as the sky grows lighter.
The time for sleeping skipped over you.
But you don't mind the heaviness in your limbs.
Sleep is the enemy.
What if the darkness swallows you with nightmares? Just like last time?
Your trust has dissappeared again, and you hardly even noticed.
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