picture this: its six in the morning and you’re laid flat on your bed, the sun creeps in through that unnecessary gap in your curtains and you realise that you’re so alone. you reminisce- and you remember times whereby you were woken up at this time as well, but you when you turned to your side, there was a beautiful girl lying right next to you.
her face resembled a clock, bringing forth orientation in your drunk, sleepy state. you kissed her forehead and you laid back down.
-
nine in the morning, i woke up to the abrupt end of a very lucid dream, and at that instant, i felt like i was in a different time altogether. but as the sun graced the morning sky, my mind receded back to the nothingness that surrounded me.
just then you were still, and you ponder- these memories: the one that got away, and that beautiful girl, are memories for a reason.
you are lonely, so fucking lonely, and you are completely alright.
