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Midnight Insomnia

From the wardrobe my mom eternally sleeps, as she thimbles my midnight insomnia. The door squeaks open on tarnished hinges of echoes. Rusty hangers. Hungry moths and frayed clothes. No light, no candle. Just dark and me in my all alone. As a silence of a sleeve touch my cheek. Cracking open my bladder, as the eyes of a canine seek. I spill my M&M'S.   



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