.the twilight hour.

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In this pocket-full of time, the twilight hour sets in.
I feel so alone, the inky blackness of my room seems to cut all ties with the outside world.

My throat feels dry and it aches; my eyelids feel heavy and blurred. The ache grows from my unsaid words, and the heaviness from un-shed tears.

I'm very unsure of why I feel I need to cry, but I won't add another tick on the list of things I should have done.

My body shivers strongly and unvoluntarily. The breeze from my window is finally reaching me.
I don't want to cry, but the tears come anyway.
I'm sure i'll feel better tomorrow.

Poetica Vol. 02Where stories live. Discover now