It is what it is,
an echo of forgotten dreams
the hinges on a door
or a cold spot on a pillow
that whispers and breathes
on your neck
and the silence
isn’t even dead yet
look softly before you scream
an empty house party
with cavities in it’s teeth
and static in the halls
with ghosts clinging
to the weather vane
think it Santa Claus








Hi
The art work is good. Lines and words syn c. I sometimes feel we make our life disturbing rather any person could.
Our life and fate is in our hands we stick to our thoughts and we live. I believe in this. I see horse in the picture. I see your work must be appreciated and the pain you carry people understand very well. Keep writing and you know the balance how to prioritise things in life.
Jessy Jacob ❤️
Thank you.
Test
I got that.