Zywa
Panic
At night my head is free
of consciousness: no rules
but a fair
of memories in which I only
know the way
without thinking
and screeching frustrations
which from the roller coaster
of my dreams sweep back
into their old tracks and
cry out drop by drop in the sweat
of my delirious desperation
with a grimace on my face
and a word I don't understand
Everyone flees
But you can't help that, says the doctor
Before you went to sleep
your house was already on fire
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