Haunted
listen to the empty house
imprints seeping through cracked plaster
ghostly voices lamenting torment from leaky pipes
all the unsaid things
now revealed through peeling wallpaper unhindered by age
while everything neglected remains buried
under layers of ugly paint
wood-worn floorboards sag with the weight
of what once was,
what could have been,
what still remains
backscatter memories linger like cigarette smoke,
ancient reminders of bad choices,
insincere promises
and pain so present,
it cries remembrance in every rusty door hinge
maybe it wants to be heard
the way we want to be heard,
in our creaking, worn-out bones,
in our thoughts unhindered by age,
in buried regrets now quivering off our rusty lips,
in what we can no longer contain behind our leaky eyes
what once was,
what could have been,
what still remains
© Trisha Leigh Shufelt
Break & Bloom (Available now)
Under the Midnight Muse is a new blog featuring poetry and art from myself and those that inspire me.
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