there’s this room i used to feel trapped in. dark and cold with an emptiness that allows the breath escaping my lungs to echo. no welcome mats to greet a soul nor pillows or throws. only a void that taunts and teases anything i do in attempt to fill it, granting me the power to deaden my senses.
roommates – Stories by Noelle
you can find the written poem on my blog. links to other social platforms here. — This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app — Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/storiesbynoelle/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/storiesbynoelle/support