Night time, blanket of darkness cloaking you in serene meditation.

Frost covered world. Gentle snow and delicate shimmer that sucks up the sound.

Milky light, pin-pricked sky.

I’ve willed myself into becoming an insomniac. It’s a peculiar ambition. I’ve succeeded.

My mind unable to turn off … choosing to look out into the darkness with sleep-sick eyes.

Caffiene buzz. The train. Drunken stumbles … late night soundtrack.

The house creaks, waffle stretches, I sigh.

Sleepless rhythm.


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