Once again in this time zone.
This monochromatic elongated hour,
Where everything is more vibrant.
The air seems crisper,
Your bed warmer,
Your mood deeper.

But as the minute’s tick tick tick by, like the ants on the pavement outside, your mind starts to become agitated and vile.

His cherry blossom heart losing its petals in a desperate hope to hide the fact the neighbours are flowerless.

A gentle rainstorm quickly enlightens the situation as more and more thunderclouds role in from the north.

The north a sea storm, with high mountains and deep valleys
But here you are. once again in this hour, where you are not quite awake, but your mind is alive.

Your body running through the scorching sandpaper desserts down the spine, sending sharp stabbing sounds out into the night.
The night a seemingly peaceful place, but every detail of a sound is amplified, as the walls cave in, turning into speakers of which play only at a frequency which seemingly only you can hear.

Your mouth seems dryer, dehydrated from all the drinking, thinking and linking of random events in your mind, as a mindless car drives by, casting playful shadows that dance and beckon you on the walls, enticing you closer as they play games on your eyes, casting spells on your senses and messing with your mind.

2 am.

This place is neither real nor otherwise, but perhaps it exists in this hour of the night.