autumn in the ghost town

your sleep is a web
my thoughts are trapped within.

blood on our heads
attracts the birds
and their screeches are sounds of horror

autumn in the ghost town
comes suddenly, with just one blow
and evenings burn like fire
along with our heart-shaped stones
you try to talk with whispers
to show them that they’re not real
but if you turned around now
the gold would set you free

© Ailera Stone photography blog, Autumn in my Veins. Design by Fearne.