Somehow, in these dark hours, it feels all the more comfortable to profess all the wrongs in my life to you.
The dark sneaks up on us and pats our shoulders, enveloping our fears and complications— choking them out with a simple grace of its non-existence.
Secrets don’t  echo so loudly in its embrace.
Words slip out in pure darkness, our eyes focused on exactly nothing, our ears only working to hear the steady breath of one another— a reassurance that we’re both here, indefinitely attending to our late-night ramblings.
It’s such a dream,
that,
these words that hold such great meaning are now flooded into the ears of you sitting right beside me.
And instead of ignoring me, you listen.