Graylight

Someone said, must be nice to take a break— let time dissolve into soft, colorless days. A week. A month. However long it takes. And yeah, I’ve wanted that. Still do, somewhere between tabs and texts. But then I think— what if I stop? What if the stillness swallows the spark? What if I’m just another shape in the static, no noise, no edge? Who am I without the constant hum, without the burn that makes me feel real? Maybe just fabric. Folded. Familiar. Forgotten.