I tell myself to blink
of staring contests with the screen.
Another hour gone –
One, two, three, four, five a.m.
Time’s slipped through my fingers,
yet the machine that has captured my attention
My room is illuminated
by the dull light of the screen,
which is a little too close
to my tired eyes,
and my brain slowly,
willing me to sleep.
© Copyright 2016 sirenscalling. All rights reserved.
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