"i guess"

Another hazy memory from a night that blurred into dawn. The phantom weight of a hand in yours, the echo of laughter down an empty street. These are the faded washes and silent promises of what was, or what could have been, clinging to the last remnants of a perfect, imperfect moment.

They carry the scent of forgotten playlists and whispered secrets, a quiet rebellion stitched into every seam. Sometimes, all you can do is hold onto the feeling.

Filed under: a knowing glance.