I've grown used to having things of mine being taken away. accustomed to the absence, and the ashes can attest. seems I'm always taking stock on one hand, and losing sleep on the other. "Keep dreaming." you can fucking have them. gladly be the Insomniac if sleeping meant this. and everyone knows loss in one form or another. everyone is secretly being fermented by their own tiny burglaries. their own private bitterness. at some point in your life, someone cracked the safe, and made off with your loot.
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