I always have one sleeve rolled up,
From sleeping through my daydreams.
I run from escape, no matter where it leads me.
I self-shame and suffer despite the consequences.
I am bored of sleep.
I’m waking up.
Kill the ticking clock and just live without the noise.
I am not a poet.
But listen to me anyway.
Let my words carry weight.
Let them guide you past me,
To the world we built on the edge of the end.