[332] Futile Chase of A Sunrise

Things didn’t make sense for her⁣⁣
like a gnawing feeling inside her⁣⁣
to open a bookstore in the desert⁣,⁣
the pinnacle of solitude⁣⁣
Like we squandered an opportunity⁣⁣
by not having books in the middle of it⁣⁣
Who could have thought of this ⁣⁣
but her ⁣
⁣⁣
The one who wakes up when the moon rises⁣⁣
Nocturnal thoughts her best friend ⁣⁣
With the nearby lake serving as her mirror⁣⁣
Her caffeine the smell of thorny roses⁣⁣
and her morning the night full of crickety silence⁣
interrupted only by the fizz of a shooting star⁣⁣
that passes through her eyes every night ⁣⁣
just to check ‘is she alive?’ ⁣⁣
⁣⁣
She hasn’t seen light in a long long time⁣⁣
Last night when she thought about time ⁣⁣
all she could make sense of it was that ⁣⁣
it existed as long as she was blinking⁣⁣
Time contorted whenever she slept⁣⁣
into nightmares full of solar eclipses ⁣⁣
⁣⁣
But when she woke up to the moon ⁣⁣
She could never make sense of the way she felt⁣⁣
She could never make sense of the heaviness ⁣⁣
that rested in her mind like the weight of a moment⁣⁣
that she dreaded to confront ⁣⁣
That is when it made sense to her ⁣⁣
She dreaded to confront the light of the morning ⁣⁣
It’s been too long since she felt a type of way ⁣⁣
that is gentle enough for her ⁣
to hold an iota of positive self worth⁣⁣
which permits her ⁣
to finally wake up to a sunrise⁣⁣

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