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late night
awake to the sound
of quiet sleeptalking
irony never was lost on me
miss the feeling of being
the voice from the hallway
the lone pair of headlights
down a dark empty street
i used to keep the lights on
thought i knew where i should go
restless though my eyes cast anchors
to the seafloor in the third spot that i
have tried to call home

© starcrossed