Living Alone

It's the days where you don't have to get out of bed, the days where time has no role.

It's the days where you decide to put assignments aside and relax under your covers.

It's the sound of the construction outside your window, and the clacking of your keyboards.

It's the sound your air conditioner makes, and the sound of your Daniel Caeser's "Freudian" in the background.

It's the sound of your thoughts, reading through the lines of a book, the smell of the coffee/tea in your mug, and the scrunched up pieces of paper on your desk.

It's the sound of your feet, moving around under your covers and the sound of the blinds, hitting against the window pane from the wind outside.

However,

It is also the weight on your chest, and the beating of your heart that somehow seems to get louder and louder.

It's the quiet in your room, and the sound of your breaths from under your mouth.

It's the empty chair, and pictures on the walls,

the sound of your own footsteps, pacing the floors.

It's the way your eyelids grow heavy, and the ticking clock that seems to face no end. 

It's the coldness of the pillows, and the sound of your thoughts,

the voices in your head, or the absence of the voices.

It's the weight of your shoulders, pinned to the bed, the heaviness of your feet, dragging against the carpet.

It's the sound of the gulps and the sound of the wind.

But most importantly,

It's the sound of the silence, that plays over and over again.

sincerely,

the loneliness

(of living alone)