F O R T Y S I X

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Lights out, 
I reach for my phone, 
It's 8:44 pm on the dot. 
My head is heavy with a dull ache 
No joy, no sorrow, just a numb state. 
Tears roll down my face 
The heat, unbearable, feels like a blaze 
Craving a warm embrace, 
But the air kisses my skin, leaving no trace.
Oh, how I despise this sickness, 
Robbing me of no comfort nor bliss.

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