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ℒate night scribbling.
Good night. To me, these two words feel like the vast sky. Darkness, but not hollow. Black but not bitter. Far but close enough to wonder. Is it reachable?
Can feelings get so real, thay the become tangible? A spacious bed for me and my thoughts to sleep in. Head above my pillow and a question above my head. Insomnia feel like drought because all i do is look up, thinking. Will it ever, ever come?
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ℒate night scribbling.
Good night. To me, these two words feel like the vast sky. Darkness, but not hollow. Black but not bitter. Far but close enough to wonder. Is it reachable?
Can feelings get so real, thay the become tangible? A spacious bed for me and my thoughts to sleep in. Head above my pillow and a question above my head. Insomnia feel like drought because all i do is look up, thinking. Will it ever, ever come?
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