(To the tune of “my shot” by Lin-Manuel Miranda) I am not going to go to, bed! I am not going to go to, bed! Hey yeah I’m in my room reading, creeping around and sneaking, but I’m not going to go to bed!

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(To the tune of “my shot” by Lin-Manuel Miranda) I am not going to go to, bed! I am not going to go to, bed! Hey yeah I’m in my room reading, creeping around and sneaking, but I’m not going to go to bed!
I became awake From a very dark place Patchwork of fear of poorly conceived ideas With a blister of water Mark of working hands, ready to catch or cut Senses aligned, the animal urgency And voices picked up Flowing over the static, late, quiet All awake, all awake