And Still

I never used to nap, and now it’s all I can do. I feel like I have mono. Someone pointed out I might be depressed. I don’t think I am. I think I would know, wouldn’t I. The naps aren’t soothing, anyway; they’re not the mild, refreshing sort. They are the type I take because my body can’t take it, because if I don’t curl up under the covers I’ll break down or worse. The sleep is thick and heavy, and when I wake I’m sweaty and distraught and feel just as tired as before, just as run down or pulled apart, thirsty and damp and exhausted and still.


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