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.