Awake at Midnight
by Lisboa Miraflores
I'm not cold;
flesh sweating thickly beneath
thin sheets. It's dark
and I am awake,
alone. No one will respond
if I scream,
and I can feel my skin
dying. I know Death
means eternally lost and suddenly
I can't remember how
my mom's arms used to feel.
Strangers will only say
'It's a pity.
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