9:06

It's morning, I haven't slept.

It's cold but I can hear the birds.

My friend used to tell me stories before he left.

He would talk about a deep void in his chest, then tell me to listen to the birds.

He told me that they would comfort me when I'm sad, but I'm still sad.

I miss him, but he's gone.

I miss many people, but I also hate them.

My head is full of many thoughts, but this morning is quiet.

It's 9:06, and I don't think I'll be sleeping anytime soon.