I don’t have anything due.

I’m not cramming for a test, or rushing to finish something before a deadline.

Sleep and I just aren’t on the same page.

And God knows I’ve tried everything.

Jumping jacks: ineffective

Silent dance party in my bathroom: negative

Reading a book: made me more alert than before

Hours started to tick by.

I set arbitrary goals, taking Snapchats of times I felt were an important milestone.

I panicked over everything, from my lack of peanut butter, to my potential capability as a mother.

My world becomes hazy, and shadows flicker on the walls, like they were

And now, writing this hours later, words blur and slide off the page.

Words don’t make sense, and spelling seems like a chore that wears me down all the more.

I’m stuck in a dream, a waking nightmare.

The only cure is to close my eyes.

The only cure is out of my reach.

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