Whenever Ink is Needed
Without a fuss the day ended quietly. Peaceful in a way you wouldn’t notice how the stars shot out from the sky one by one. Hooked in a way you forgot about what troubled you just moments before. You forgot how your boss scolded while you day dreamed, your friends who left you behind again and your loved ones who broke your heart for the nth time—  of each defeat replayed like broken vinyl that slowly stopped to turn when silence rushed with the sunset.It felt like a lifetime ago when you got battered and bruised but in reality; everything and nothing became an instance that lapsed on into silhouettes and then into absolute shadows hopeful to be glistened by dim moonbeams and pedestrians stuck in traffic along deep space.You are tickled by tall grass, the gentle caress of a dying afternoon breeze. And somewhere along the horizon you could hear your mother’s whispers and pleas for you to come home.She always believed the night holds danger close like a cradled baby.But then again you thought—even in the daylight someone gets robbed and killed. The world is just dangerous that way. But somehow sunsets and sunrises made you forget for a moment that everything else is truthfully scary.It’s only a matter of courage and belief to think otherwise. 

Without a fuss the day ended quietly. Peaceful in a way you wouldn’t notice how the stars shot out from the sky one by one. Hooked in a way you forgot about what troubled you just moments before. You forgot how your boss scolded while you day dreamed, your friends who left you behind again and your loved ones who broke your heart for the nth time—  of each defeat replayed like broken vinyl that slowly stopped to turn when silence rushed with the sunset.

It felt like a lifetime ago when you got battered and bruised but in reality; everything and nothing became an instance that lapsed on into silhouettes and then into absolute shadows hopeful to be glistened by dim moonbeams and pedestrians stuck in traffic along deep space.

You are tickled by tall grass, the gentle caress of a dying afternoon breeze. And somewhere along the horizon you could hear your mother’s whispers and pleas for you to come home.

She always believed the night holds danger close like a cradled baby.
But then again you thought—even in the daylight someone gets robbed and killed. 

The world is just dangerous that way. But somehow sunsets and sunrises made you forget for a moment that everything else is truthfully scary.

It’s only a matter of courage and belief to think otherwise. 

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