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Haunted

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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