when the ghost in the basement
won’t stop wailing i want ouuuut!
& you holler right back
don’t we aaaall, my friend!​
the dog at the foot of the bed
is taking up so much real estate
your feet hang off the side
toes so cold​
it feels like you’re dipping them
in the shallow end of death
you pull yourself out
the weight of your body
so heavy on your knees
the creaking so loud
you can’t tell if it’s you
or the floor boards
you shuffle to the kitchen
to warm your hands
by the wood stove
yesterday’s coffee
boiling in a pan, you
walk out in the snow​
searching for a newspaper
they stopped bringing
20 years before​
& you realize someone else
has come to live here now
the curtains & the paint
so much nicer​
you’re almost certain
the house smells like toast
all the time​
or the sweet golden crust
of a biscuit​
~~~
