A Taste of Midnight

The night has always felt like home — soft, endless, and humming with secrets.

They say monsters hide in the dark, but perhaps it’s the dark that hides from us.

I’ve wandered long enough to know that the moon never lies. It sees what sunlight tries to erase — the ache in beauty, the hunger in silence, the pulse that still beats beneath pale skin.

Maybe I was born for the night. Maybe I just never learned how to live in the day.

If you’re reading this, welcome to my little crypt of words. I’ll write here when the world sleeps — about dreams that taste like blood and roses, about loneliness dressed in velvet, and about the strange sweetness of eternity.

 Stay a while. The night doesn’t bite… unless you ask it to. 

—yawnsproutieee🪦