bronze

i'm on two hours of sleep, i feel like my body is being slowly dragged toward an abysmal pit by some sort of anchoring device. my meaningless steps are going in no direction. i stood at work and watches the bags under my eyes expand slowly, consuming my face, then body. they overtook my being. perhaps i've had too little and too much in the perfect combination this time around. perhaps i just need sleep. sweet, wondrous slumber in my broken bed. perhaps an albatross is hanging around my neck. or conscious.