it’s not that there isn't sound
it’s a hallowed sound
a head full of thoughts
humming low like static on a radio
the heartbeat of the house
maybe it’s breathing or walking
banging pipes, running water, crackling furnace,
ghosts, gunshots, prisoners, suffocation
or it’s nothing but night
and you’ve decided to show up
———
I hope you all are enjoying my poetry! please stay tuned for more.
—Chey
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