Nick@Nite on my Stucco Ceiling at 2 a.m. Tuesday

Published Oct. 13, 2016, 12:19 p.m. - 90 views

Milk pours through my synapses like balmy steam-rain
My mind is lilac-basted, caked with sand
“Hello” – so suddenly shy when the somber people shuffle by
Orange street, Brown sea, doesn’t really mean much to me
I’ve got my empty headed glee: A terror to make the knowing flee
And so I shout!–Damn, there’s the credits. Gone is the vision.
Shit. can’t sleep

About the Author

Conlan Campbell, class of 2018 is a English major.

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