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The clock glows 3:17 while the walls breathe louder than me. Every shadow in my room knows my name by memory. I tried to sleep— but my thoughts kept scratching at the ceiling like dying angels trapped in black wire skies. There’s something standing behind me again. I don’t turn around anymore. Fear gets less terrifying when it starts feeling familiar. My reflection looks exhausted. Eyes hollowed out by midnight conversations nobody else could hear. I wear dark circles like they’re jewelry now. And maybe that’s the problem— I made pain aesthetic. Turned heartbreak into poetry, turned loneliness into background music, turned insomnia into personality. Now the night crawls under my skin like ink through cracked veins. Every memory whispers: “You were never meant to heal.” But somehow I still sit beside the window watching the city lights flicker like false hope, wondering if somebody out there is awake for the same reasons I am. Maybe we’re all haunted differently. Maybe some monsters learn how to wear our faces. And if sleep is peace, then I’ve been at war for years. — xx10m 🖤🌑
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May 13
May 13, 2026 at 3:22 PM UTC
Under My Skin.
The clock glows 3:17 while the walls breathe louder than me. Every shadow in my room knows my name by memory. I tried to sleep— but my thoughts kept scratching at the ceiling like dying angels trapped in black wire skies. There’s something standing behind me again. I don’t turn around anymore. Fear gets less terrifying when it starts feeling familiar. My reflection looks exhausted. Eyes hollowed out by midnight conversations nobody else could hear. I wear dark circles like they’re jewelry now. And maybe that’s the problem— I made pain aesthetic. Turned heartbreak into poetry, turned loneliness into background music, turned insomnia into personality. Now the night crawls under my skin like ink through cracked veins. Every memory whispers: “You were never meant to heal.” But somehow I still sit beside the window watching the city lights flicker like false hope, wondering if somebody out there is awake for the same reasons I am. Maybe we’re all haunted differently. Maybe some monsters learn how to wear our faces. And if sleep is peace, then I’ve been at war for years. — xx10m 🖤🌑
“The scariest thing about insomnia isn’t staying awake… it’s realizing your mind never wanted to sleep.” — xx10m
xx10m
Written by
122/M/3AM
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 3:22 PM UTC
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