How is it that nighttime is perfect to recall our feelings?
The shade and the ambiance, I guess.
It’s very comfortable that our bottled-up thoughts and held-back feelings start to linger and ache.
Whenever it stings, we always find ourselves clinging to the pain, and tears stream down our faces until we’re catching our breath.
How ironic that we always exchange “good nights” with our friends or family; only to drown ourselves in the waves of emotions and the echoes of our minds in bed.
The nightmare itself wasn’t in our dreams; it was when we tormented ourselves before going to sleep.
When no one was able to console us, our pillow would understand. Despite how soaked it would get, it wouldn’t mind. Whenever we hugged it tightly, it wouldn’t complain how painful our embrace was.
It will always be there, while we consume the misery — hoping that a better tomorrow will come.
Our unspoken words are heard every midnight, forcing ourselves not to make any noise.
We don’t want to be heard, but at the same time, there is a glimpse of hope that someone will listen to our screams of despair.
To whoever invents this object, it is a great help.
I wonder, what problem did he think of that gained this idea?
Is it because we could have something comfortable to sleep on after a tiring day?
Or is it because when no one else is there to understand us, we can have something to lean on and be comfortable?
Like a pillow, we’re meant to be made soft and delicate but the world was harsh enough to beat us up.
Leaving us torn apart, with bruises and scars.
That even the vibe of the night isn’t enough to mend our whole system up.
We’re actually fragile beings; forced to act tough and stand up when reality is bringing us down.
Our pillow has witnessed that every night isn’t the same; times that felt miserable, suffocating, giving up, resting from the world, and the silent prayers we discern it was never answered.
Even how many times we cried our hearts out, it would still hush us to sleep after we release the pain we’ve been carrying.
Each tear that falls off our pillow isn’t just sadness — it’s composed of undistinguishable emotions, that even it would feel devastated by how we hinder ourselves to show our vulnerability.
We can be defenseless at night; the quiet objects would not disturb the dilemma we hid beyond the walls. Only those awake at midnight would witness the grudge and the burden you held back.
