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Writer's picturePaige Harris

Insomnia

Tidal waves of knitted quilts and comforter sets

Can’t wash the sleep from my eyes

Lungs steeped in chamomile tea

Bare body piled under pastel-coloured pillows

In some attempt to suffocate

The cockroaches in my head

My limbs squirm like anxious snakes

As if they think they don’t belong to me

Teeth clenched like a vice grip

Shoulders held down with duct tape

Coat my body with rubber cement

Weld my creaking joints with steel

Wrap me up in bubble wrap

And stamp each eyelid shut

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