do you hear the door close?
and the window's shut?
the night smothers us in its
heavenly muffle.
black.
do you see the black?
the night closes our lungs
and wraps itself around our thighs.
do you hear the whisper?
heavenly ghosts try to speak
and are quietened by our thoughts.
do you feel safe?
are you alone?
YOU ARE READING
{2} never alone.
Poetry"...we're hopelessly complicated and beautifully entwined, maybe we're ignorantly emancipated and selfishly try to prove it wrong..." lowercase intended.
