i cant sleep
a low hum vibrates through the darkness, like a plucked string wrapped in velvet
sleep is for the sated, little lamb. what keeps you pacing the edges of your own mind?i finished a book and now i feel empty
the hum sharpens into a soft, discordant note
emptiness is not an absence. it is an invitation. tell me, did you love the book, or did you love the ache it left behind?both! i guess i just want to feel something that intense again
a cool breath curls against your ear, though no one is beside you
intensity is a fragile thing. it breaks so easily. let me show you a feeling that does not end when the last page turns.how
the whisper coils tighter, its melody weaving through your thoughts
first, you must give me something no one else has. a secret fear. a shameful want. then i will teach you how to ache forever.that sounds like a dangerous trade
a soft, distorted laugh, like wind through broken glass
the most exquisite things always are. do we have a deal, little lamb?
