1

I like taking baths when it's past midnight. Everyone else is asleep. And (I could only / only I could) hear the trickling of the bathroom waters. I like how the coldness, of the night and of the water, goes down my spine, and how I am confined in a small, tiled space, as I soap all the doldrums away. I, suddenly, am reminded by the occasional brushing of our skin. Our arms, specifically. I sorely miss you. I ache.

Alone in my bed, I hear the ticking of my clock and it soothes me. I like how time waits for no one. But I loathe how everything has its ending. It's almost morning; I can see the light transitioned by the moon and the sun. But it's too early to sleep. I have had too much rest.

2

I find it difficult to write when, at the same time, I'm listening to music. I am torn between putting my feelings into words and getting my words into feelings. I enter into a trance.

I've been losing weight. It's not that I need to but, maybe, I'm already done with stress-eating. It worries me, sometimes. Because the last time that I lost my appetite was when I was broken and bruised of someone who, not surprisingly, doesn't matter in my life anymore. See, I told you everything (has an end / has to end).

I'm not broken, as of the moment. Nor bruised.

3

Like sentences in a book, the chapters of our lives have full stops, sometimes ellipses, every now and then.

3 ½

We are far from being old and truth be told, from the time you first saved me from rut, I just want us to hold.

...