2 a.m.

I’m clocked in, 
ankle twisting beneath the sheets, 
weary heart thudding away in my chest,
unchosen rituals.  

I’ve got the blankets pulled up past my
knuckles wrapped tightly under my
I can’t sleep through the cries,
the distant screams of agony.  

There’s no solace here, 
no comfort, 
when you’re on night duty 
for the worlds conscience. 

I lie here, 
watching it snore, 
and half consider 
putting it out of 
its misery. 


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