s o f t & t i r e d

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fingertips strike kalimba notes
as my eyelids grow weighed down by my lack of energy
the darkness whispers nothing,
simply lets the sound of the fan and my cats' breathing reach my ears—
it's telling me it's ready for sleep,
and that I am too.

my shoulders are round like circles
the circle is forever
but the night is not
and I should get sleep wile I can
don't wanna be sleepy all day tomorrow,
y'know?

but I wanna stay up
talking with friends is fun
even if my fingers are getting tired
and there is sleep dust in my eyes
and the room is just the right temperature
the air stirring from the fan is coaxing me to lay my head down
should I listen?
I don't know,
but I know my cat's listening,
because she's asleep,
while the other one is still awake.

my skin is soft
and warm
and I am tired.

the just-right air is gentle
as I breathe it into my lungs,
and I am tired.

the energy is nice
and it is good
and it is not tired,
but I sure am.

I can hear water dripping from someone else's tap,
it is so quiet
I feel the pull start to wear itself out
and I feel my eyes wanting to close as I yawn.

I think I'll give in now.
I'm the soft sorta tired.

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