stories

i look up at the sky, the blue stretching endlessly above me, streaked with soft gold as the sun dips toward the horizon. the breeze carries a blend of scents: fresh grass, the tang of distant saltwater, and something faintly sweet like flowers i can’t quite name.

it feels comforting and familiar, as though i’ve been here before but can’t quite remember when. yet, beneath the comfort, there’s an ache, a sense of something missing.

a ladybug, perched on the fabric of my sleeve. its red shell is vivid, its black spots perfectly symmetrical. for a moment, the world feels smaller and quieter. a warmth floods through me, and with it, the faintest flicker of a memory. i’ve seen this before. i know i have.

one night i looked up at the sky and realized i couldn’t see the stars anymore.

i wrote a song about it.

crossing into this other life.

what makes u lonelyy, lonelyy at night.