Everything makes me want to laugh and cry

I can’t sleep at night because my spine is on fire. I lose forty winks and so what because I can practice throat singing. The streetlamp in my dream bends down and finds enough reason to invade my personal space, and it won’t after long remember its youth on a pale island or in the mines deep underground pulled to the surface by underpaid workers. And someday before I die you’ll remind me that outer space is just another place, and that I’ll forget about it, too. I won’t call you a psychic, but you always know what to say.

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Title by: Anonymous
Story by: Jeremy