I’m just a ghost
Waging wars of rage
Running through hallways
Impulsively picking
At the paper And the plaster
Fractured and fragmented
Just like your wall frames
Broken and battered
Just like the empty promises
Can you hear me yet? Can you feel the screaming?
Carrying through the curtains and crevices
Uncovering truths, and unspoken emotions
They say old houses can be coarse and creaky
Regrets and memories are raspy and rusty
You’re a hostage at home now.
However, I am the haunting.