Sleep

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My eyelids became heavy

Like they turned to stones,

When I wasn't looking

The wind in my throat

Caught on

Riding the breeze

Of my slowed breathing

Head drops,

Body gone to bed,

The closest you can get to death

Recharges you

For washing away the eye stones,

And seeing the light of the morning.

Thoughts From An X - Part DeuxWhere stories live. Discover now