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willow
Taylor Swift
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- 02cardigan3:59
- 03Death By A Thousand Cuts3:18
- 04All Too Well5:29
willow - Taylor Swift
I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night
Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife
And if it was an open-shut case
I never would've known from that look on your face
Lost in your current like a priceless wine
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2026-06-24 23:30
广东 广州市
It's three in the morning again. Outside the window, the world has sunk into its deepest silence. Now and then, the faint sound of tires rolling over pavement drifts in from somewhere far off, only to be swallowed by the darkness as if it had never existed at all. The glow of the phone screen stings my eyes. The flickering digits tick forward, beat by beat — half reminder, half mockery aimed at every soul that cannot sleep. Nothing remains in the room but the low hum of the air conditioner. A sliver of streetlight slips through a gap in the curtain and throws a hazy patch of orange-yellow on the ceiling, like a pair of eyes that refuse to close. I turn over. The pillow is already warm where I've been lying; I press my cheek to the cool side, and the brief touch of fresh fabric against my skin brings a flicker of momentary clarity. Thoughts tangle in my head like a knot of threads — the harder I try to sort them out, the more restless I grow. I give up struggling altogether and just stare at that patch of light on the ceiling. The tea I brewed this afternoon has long gone cold; a faint brown ring still clings to the inside of the cup. A cough drifts down from upstairs — some neighbor, probably, also startled awake by the deep of night — and then everything falls silent once more. At three in the morning, wakefulness is a kind of loneliness, and loneliness has long since become a habit.
摘要凌晨三点失眠的孤独感已成为习惯，深夜的寂静与思绪的纠缠让人无法入睡
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