Classical Sass

(341) Tired Tankas

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Brain sludge.

Five minus one is
Four but don’t forget to drop
The layers of stress
That mulch your sleeping hours
And blur your dreams with dead ends

I’ve been awake since
1905, my face is
wrinkly and puckered
I can’t hear my thoughts or still 
my trembling mental collapse

My quiet crouches 
stale on my eyelids, sullen
luckless fortitude 
that is eager for gray sleep
and a night of straight nothing

So I’ll slip to bed 
and pretend I don’t notice
the sly grinning smirk
of the music that waits, shy
but ready when the weight drops


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