a rush of mind static breathes over the pillowcase—the clothes rustle and rub against dotted sheets. there is no rest in the valley of the remembered.
there is more lamplight than starlight here, more humming than silence. the ceiling blends into the walls, a dark shade of nepenthe and fatigue, a palette of muted shadows. when the night deities chose their realm, they did not hesitate. darkness is the easy one.
i’m not afraid of the dark. i’m afraid of everything that i will forget, everything that i will lose. most of all, i’m afraid that i won’t wake up in the morning and breathe.
this love, it’s all i have, and it’s all i can hold. please don’t die.