I keep my eyes open at night. I watch the dust as it hovers. And falls. I touch the walls to make sure I’m here. I touch my bones to make sure I’m real. Maybe if I keep myself perfectly still, the earth beneath me will come to a halt too.

Your song’s been haunting me again. Between these sheets, these dusty shelves, these worn out dreams I’ve dreamt too much. I’ve been chasing ghosts again.


As I remain frozen here, in some other reality, the song’s still playing. In some other reality, our demons are still dancing together.

In this reality, there is but darkness, radio silence, and dust.

Stop keeping me up.

3 thoughts on “Walls

  1. Sometimes, we’re, haunted by that certain someone, or that love that’s no longer in existence, and, for whatever reasons we can’t let go, we just have to wait, until time does its trick, to slowly, allow us, to be set free from it…

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