At Night

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