I sent out a message. I can’t remember what it said.
I was drunk on night and coffee. I should have been in bed.
I felt electric as I typed it. Imagine what might come.
But then the moment that I sent it, I was drowning in regret.
Who am I really? Why lonely when I’m not alone?
They’re sleeping. They’re all sleeping. Let them be. Let them be.
I’m not sleeping. I should be sleeping. Demons, flee. Let me be.