Nobody knew about how she wakes up at 11 PM just to go out and listen to the ticking of the clock. It made her feel somewhat relaxed to hear the tick and the tock.
There were nights that she'd even open the windows and feel the cold, night breeze kissing -ever so gently, her ruffled curls. She'd close her eyes and savor the fascinating scent of the midnight hour.
On some nights, she'd creep slowly out of her bed, barefoot on her pajamas. She'd tiptoe her way out into the little balcony they had and sit staring at the sky. Stars illuminating the dark sky and she'd smile like a little kid but with grown up tears falling from her eyes.
It was nights like these that held her together, nights that would cure her of her loneliness and isolation. It was nights like these that made her heal even the deepest and bloodiest scars. It was nights like these that she allowed herself to breathe and be thankful that she's alive.
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Word Vomit
Randoma collection/compilation of short stories, rants, prose, and poetry. Disclaimer! All the pictures r not mine but from Pinterest so ctto.
