Our old and empty house is a blur of memories.
No one hears whispers of dreams
nor haunting screams that sound the same.
I stand alone in the hallway
with no one there to hold my hand,
cringing at the shrinking walls
and stairs creaking without footfalls.

Mice aren’t the only creatures up after dark.
In the night come demons and monsters in my head,
echoing things I was told and things I never said.
She had heard her own, not finding the seed sown.

My heart, still beating, was ripped from my chest
when I lost you who always knew me best.
Without it I may lay my secret fears to rest.

I sit outside and think of all our years
my stomach rises, heart stops, and my mind begins to dwell.
Blooming flowers bring my bitter tears
since they will die and so will I.

I want to find her and I know I’m insane.
Haunted by that line full of our pain
the one she whispered:
“I don't belong here…”

Maybe, but neither do I, my dear,
yet I’m the one who’s still here.