Oh little one thing above my clock
What does time mean when made insignificant?
So small as an insect of dual colors
intertwined in this cosmic web.
Some little thing weighs me down.
Halting my past while muting the future.
Holding me when no one is around,
dragging me off and underground.
Things keep me up at night
to see my thoughts crawl on plain walls.
Closing in on me until all I can do
is think about everything.
Image: Insomnia by Martin Maddox
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