nightmares in a dirty blanket

every night, I’m sick.

every day, it gets worse.

how can I sleep, if I don’t dream?

I only have nightmares

no food left to eat,

I can’t leave, I can’t sleep.

So I make myself some tea,

while the nausea eats me.

How can it be? That I still believe?

that something waits for me…

Somewhere…

Bitter and empty, I start shaking

wrapped into dirty blankets,

I’m only nightmares.

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