The Lonely Hour.
It’s that fateful time where you could be dreaming wistfully away into your own reality.
Or maybe it’s one minute out of many that you lie awake and watch all of your downfalls play out on the ceiling above you.
Possibly, you breathe in your lover’s hair and find comfort with their warm body in your arms.
It’s not out of the question that you’re fighting off heavy eyelids during you quiet night shift.
This lonely hour whispers only longing and isolation into my ears.
Longer than any normal measurement of time, I shall try to sleep through the lonely hour.