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I don’t brush my teeth before bed, what’s the point.

Passing the window, would a fall from the opposite block be fatal?

Collapsed into bed, if only I kept falling.

No bed to stop me, not sheets to comfort me.

The seconds would stop being so painful.


But the bed does stop my fall, like being talked out of a jump.

Instead, it wraps my mind like Christmases dread,

Having to feel when there is none, see colour through life grayscale.

It’s all in my head, it’s all in my head, it’s all in my head.

I wish it weren’t.

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