Since I couldn't found anybody to talk to,
I kept walking around the house.
The space was as quiet as always.
Its quiet was like acquiescence to my behavior.
Something behind the house seems desperate to be found.
I stood by the window in my room.
The houses outside seems so lively and warm.
And I wondered inside that skin whether it would be the same?
Or the houses are also another wall that people built to hide themselves
Lonely, sad and depressive
Were full filled the house in everywhere,
the corridor, the chair, the bed, the window, the plants, even the dog and cat.
It was like after a horrible storm
Though everything all cleaned up and new arranged,
Fears, anxious, depressed, sad crawled over everywhere.
Ticket, the dog,
guarded the empty house as regular everyday,
from morning to the night,
was immured in lonely and depressed.
lonesome affection
a waving house
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