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Night begins, I’m afraid, with the dimming of the light of day. I stay up late dreaming of a better place to go to bed to dream of imagined things.

I sleep through morning waking up with a surprise, I’m alone and hard again.

I waste the hours of the remaining day until it repeats again. So I dream so often now of a boy to change my routine. I’ve never had a boyfriend but I’m ready to not be single now.

Categories: writing


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