When the sound of the echoing stops and you are the only one there, remember the sadness that falls upon us in our sleep, the outstretched longing for a connection - a hand, the unsettling weight of s...
The creaking of forcefully closed doors. The rattling of trees and the unbearable silence that follows. It's not the wind that howls around the walls, that are supposed to protect you,
Who are you?
My age does not define me, a name is just a name and the image I see in the mirror shifts with the weather, so yeah, that's the only answer I could give you right now.