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Done At Eleven AM

It was not even eleven am and I was already done for the day,

I simply wanted to crawl back into my bed,

Pull up a blanket I folded a couple of hours ago,

And there, staring at the ceiling,

Or crying my eyes out,

Or both,

But then, words find me,

Through someone I don't know how and why,

But they only make me feel more than I am already feeling,

In a good way, though, kinda,

So, I keep going,

Without hiding in my blanket,

And trying to give my best,

Until it feels like I'm winning.

I already think I am.


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