Fade to 4:39am and this ambiguous structure of words that need to be stretched out, stripped out, and then torn out to extrapolate the pain floating in my head.
Who knew laying in bed since 9pm would make 4:39am so deadly? To be awake, to be energized, but then to be surrounded by stillness, is destructive.
It is in 4am – I can’t do anything.
So, I think. Thinking is dangerous.
Dramatically. I’m thinking of her.
I thought I was thinking of her because I wanted to win her back. But now awake, I know I don’t. We’re forever gone.
The only thing I do know right now is that there are images of her that I must write, so I can dream of other things to make me sleep…