Of Present: Two

And sometimes when I think of Fridays
I don’t think of going out
I don’t look out to a
recuperative weekend; I think
of curling up in my bed
And not coming out ever again
and sink down and down and down
Of sleeping and not having to think
Of not waking up
But it’s all a haze
And it only happens sometimes.
Some days. Some Wednesdays.

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