I lie awake when the world is quiet. The clock ticks, but sleep won’t come. My mind races—thoughts like tangled threads I can’t unwind. The darkness feels heavy, and sadness wraps around me like a cold blanket. Outside, cars hum in the distance. A streetlight glows through the curtains, painting shadows on the wall. I stare at them, wondering why my heart feels so full yet so empty. Memories flicker—things I wish I’d said, moments I can’t undo. My body is tired, but my soul won’t rest. Sometimes, I ask the night, “Why now? Why me?” It never answers. The silence just grows louder. I toss and turn, chasing a peace that slips away like water through my fingers. Tears come quietly, mixing with the ache in my chest. But somewhere in this storm, I hold onto a tiny hope: maybe tomorrow will be softer. Maybe the light will find its way in. For now, I breathe. I wait. And I remind myself I’m still here, even in the deepest part of the night.

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