Mid Summernights Nightmare
And I was my own monster.
In between the seconds and minutes of late july.
Restless upon slumber.
Interruption of the quiet dreams of what I tried to remember.
Erased; for my own good or my own suffering.
Brave; or so it might have seemed.
To chase down the dark shadows of my dreams.
Yet the unrest gave stronger to my tiredly glazed brown eyes.
Tick goes to clock of late night regrets and subtle lies.
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