Haunted

Haunted

I awoke to a hum, soft, so subtle a melody

it danced in the old halls, betwixt the candle lights.

Incandescent, they joined writhing, flickering delighting in

the whimpering.

It asks me, or it asks the paint

peeling from the fractures in the ceiling.

“Are you there?”

Where else would I be?

Where could I hope to go

to escape the beast that holds my bones?

“Can you hear me?”

It asks the corners, the shadows, the bleakness.

The silence sharpens its claws upon her spine

raising little jagged terrors from the black of her mind.

“Will you speak with me?”

What words could convey what I am to you?

You, who is flesh and sinew and hope and laughter

and I, who is the echo of a promise broken

in a time now gone forever after?

You who walks in sunlit grace, and I who wears

the cloak of fate as a grimace tight upon my face?

“I wish you’d speak to me.”

I know your wounds feel fresh to you

but to me they’ve long bled through.

this home, these bones, the feeling of being just so

alone...

These walls, these candles,

that you lit with yours

as I did with mine,

is naught but a testament to the victories of time.

I can see in your eyes, the glow of all you ever wanted

so close to coming true

while you call to ghosts.

This house is haunted.

it’s haunted by you.