4 a.m.

byBelegon©

It begins
At the corners
I can feel the white
Turning red
As I sit silent
In the dim light
Lids creeping down
As the sandman's visits
Become more frequent
But I can't bring myself
To be the one
Who says stop
Instead
I feed the burn
With the sound
Of one hand typing

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byBelegon© 12 comments/ 22825 views/ 2 favorites

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