Insomnia doesn’t like pillow fights.

I’m having a pillow fight

with the ghost that lives in

the corner opposite the window.

 

I throw the pillow at her face, 

but it just ends up spit stained

and back in my own.

 

The clock butts in, hands on his hips,

to say that the sun is done fucking the earth

and I should really dress myself to greet him.

 

I throw my pillow at the analog face, 

only to have a hole cut in the pillow case

and it shoved over my head

as a semi appropriate dress.

 

The ghost waves as I pull at the hem

of my too short dress before laying her head

on the naked pillow in the corner opposite the window.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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