this ought

thoughts trail off, dragged down by sleepiness I cannot shake
feelings fuzzy, ideas indistinct as murky as fog laden fields
this tired, still, gentle resting state I would embrace
but for lurking awareness of this ought
ought to be studying/an ought I cannot quite bring to abandon
despite the knowledge it represses happy-go-lucky joy and creativity

And in the afternoon
sun
I want to curl up too, on the warm ground like the cat
and doze
my sleeping dream thoughts still encircling, dragging me back

but this ought
this ought

it fights

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