There exists in my mind
An alarm of some kind
That will always persist.
Sometimes it’s sharp and shrill,
My sanity to kill,
And it’s hard to resist.
Sometimes its buzzing weak
Is worse than was its shriek,
With aches that won’t desist.
Sometimes it’s muffled soft
As my thoughts scuffle oft
But it will still exist.
Sometimes it’s louder than
The world around me can
Be, and it grabs my wrist,
Sometimes to tell me that
The world around me’s flat
In a frightening twist.
Flat world with flat people,
Hollow, and no sleep’ll
Add depth in its assist.
No sleep, no peace frees me
Until I start my T,
The vial in my fist.
One poke with the syringe,
My mood will hopefully hinge:
The alarm won’t be missed.
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