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sometimes I can't tell if it's homesickness or nausea keeping me up or maybe just the abrupt door slam jolting me back to reality just as I was drifting into the peaceful void of blank nothingness or else dreams, probably

if it's homesickness my heart hurts for those places I've been alone and been adopted by some vicarious, circus family the trip to Montana in Spain the time at Cobalt just last week with 4,700 family members I didn't know I had yet in high school when the adoption by seniors filled that unknown void I had

these times I took to know a new place a new people and they offered to love me back homesickness

if it's nausea maybe I'd just hoped to beat it to sleep before the air in my chest bubbled up and asked me to sit up and asked me to think again maybe I'd just hoped to rest without being ready to catch myself off guard to wake up refreshed tricking it this one time

these times I waste to debate my state and worry the ache away only to drift further and further awake

sometimes I can't tell


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