Nothing was there.

Like ghost whispers,

Like soft tangled hair,

Nightmares with no ending.

Tunnels with no light.

Chasing fog

….it runs away every time.


A train filled with memories,

Blowing steam inside your brain.

A car overheated,

Rotting in the rain.

It’s sounds you remember…

That evaporate in thin air.

A noiseless vacuum, that inhales everything  there.


It’s all your joys and pain,  bundled by the fire,

Slowly burning to death is a pyre of silence.


©️Author: Jules B. 11/18/17🥀



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