who thinks about her dreams before she dreams them. She imagines herself in a glass box, the world watches on while she struggles for sleep. They feel the frustration resonate from the twists and turns occupied by an unconventional mind. She forgets her body parts, floating through the pins of her subconscious, questioning why the music for airports makes her feel the most.
Things will be brighter someday, scream it at the waves, tell the tide to fucking stop changing so the moon can take a rest.
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