Is It?

Sometimes
I think
This whole world
is built on lies.

But this is not us
is it?

Sometimes
I imagine
We are still close
and our friendship won't fad(e)

But that is not us
is it?

My House Talks

Late at night or in midday,
this house creaks and moans
and drives me mad.

There is no end to winds or rains
or coldness
or blankness.