3.59AM

… is warm covers, muted roads 
and the slow tick-tock of the clock 
… is endless grey skies, pitch black seas 
and filtered light through the curtains 
shapes and spectrums printed on the ceiling 

…is 
a limbo between two days
made of soft lights and soft sounds,
of silence and suspended time,
of comfort and collected thoughts. 
quiet isolation & solace found
in an absence of everything.
did this time really exist?

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Published by

❄︎ chloe ❄︎

write before you forget

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