Insomnia

Minutes pass like projectiles

Aimed with malicious precision

There is nothing innocuous about the passing of sleepless hours

Taunting me from your lofty perch

Unstoppable time

You are a bastard

The staccato war drum of your progress harkens rapid approaching dawn

How is it you are both faster and slower during the dark hours

For all your seductive pull

Still

Sweet respite, you escape me
-EJoveJohnson

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