3:33AM

 I tossed the books, and made space for myself in my bed, Thinking I’ll clear this mess the next day, knowing very well, that I won't do it. I picked up my phone, a few texts from my friend about what was I up to and that I needed to call him back. I opened the list of things I need to buy for the week. Scrolling through the phone mindlessly, wasting a few hours, and then throwing it on the bed. I stared at the ceiling and tossed myself toward the window, the curtain had slightly moved toward the left, giving the path to moonlight to enter the room. Again that time of night when it becomes difficult to ignore my emotions. 

For once I wanted them to see the world through my eyes, for once if they would have understood me. For once. A distorted figure. Blood and Tears.  Ashes and smoke. Charred bones. My letters. That nauseous, suffocating smell. Blood and Tears. It felt like the walls were coming closer and closer, soon these walls would merge with the Window. The blue curtains would engulf me and these thoughts would end forever. So afraid of forgetting those faces, so afraid to glance at photographs. Smoke arose, the face from the window emerged, a familiar face, I once loved. Hands, veins, stitches, bandages. Whether I'm thinking of the thought or living the thought or I'm the thought. 

I heard my phone ringing, and with the rising ringtone, walls seemed to go back to their place. It was the call from the same friend whom I was supposed to call. After promising him a meeting, I fell on bed again, this time for some reason a little relaxed.