Lyricist

3 1 0
                                    

Footsteps.
Bloodshot eyes and tousled hair.
The night is cruel to my features, although crying didn't soothe them much, either.
I sigh, as i always do.
The soft, unmistakeable tug of heartache grazes my chest like a finger on a lyre.
It's alluring pull pulsates and grows.
I begrudgingly accept the ache, too tired to fight the anxious feeling.
The phone is blank, unbarred by notification of communication.
Another heaving sigh.
I rouse myself from the sheets, cool stone greeting my feet with a soft bite of chill. I tiptoe to the bathroom, running water through my hair and over my eyelids.
I feel only the distant tugging and a faint cloud of regret.
I trudge back to the bed, the cool air wafting from a vent on the wall snapping fiercely at my limbs as i clamber back into safe and sound.
Music wafts through my ears, solicited by the warm touch of my smartphone's glass.
A smile.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 09, 2016 ⏰

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