There are ghosts here.
Stitched into the seams of wallpaper,
whispers woven into the grain of floorboards.
They press against the windows at night,
cold breath fogging the glass,
revealing images of a childhood lost.
They crawl through cracks in the ceiling,
falling like maggots on my skin,
fingers slither up my legs like snakes,
slipping under my pretty pink dress
to a place where innocence once hid.
Every door shudders with their secrets,
every corner curves into a memory.
They sit on my bed,
wearing his synthetic smile,
watching me, silently,
waiting.
I can’t stay here,
with their hands pulling at my shadow,
their weight crushing my chest.
I want to walk into light
to a place they can't reach,
and build a new life
where I can be whole again,
and breathe air unchained by yesterday.
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