you refuse to relate, but deep down you know you do.

Five.

I stare at my phone screen in my dark room.

Hours have passed and yet still no sleep.

I feel like I'm bolted to my bed.

I lower my phone and turn my head to my window.

In the cracks, there's sunlight.

Not the orange sunlight you usually see, but blue.

It's blue hour.

I hear my mom's door open, she's leaving for work.

At least I'll have the day to myself.

A day where I can fall asleep without anything to deal with.

The isnomia eats me up inside.