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I’m woken up by a discomfort
Of a gun pressing against me.
My fantasies and dreams
Have been merciful again;
But Reality has just checked in.
The gun then whispers,
“You failed again last night.”

I look at the familiar walls.
Spider webs so thick that
I should consider sleeping on them sometime.

I heard that thinking about a friend helps;
But I can’t remember any of  their faces.

At least a lizard still sticks around my room.

The gun whispers something again,
But something else is screaming.
It’s my book of poems.
She lies dusty on my shelf.

I could go fetch her,
Except I don’t have any enthusiasm;
Even to masturbate.

So I start crying!

_____________________to be continued_____

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