Did an undead shuffle around the lunch hour
block, lurching side to side in beat with my
favourite music accentuating a strange
charm of being too tired to lift my feet
Two meals of French fries stymied my brain
circuitry, stunned my nervous system, too
tired to create impressions I’m still alive, have
to wait until my mind engages again
Gave up reading and writing, I’m upright fast
asleep, everything I eat or drink worsens the
situation, I am Mrs Narcolypsy who’s been
known to fall asleep in mid-sentence
If I do the wrong thing now I shall not be able
to get up tomorrow, an eating disorder that
made me into the most antisocial being,
shunning company because of fatigue
Dedicated bookworm, follower of bibliotherapy,
without books to take my mind away from my
sleepy body I would be stuck without escape
in the molasses of a deepfreeze …
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