The house is haunted
It has been happening for a while
The odd niggling feeling of something slightly off
creeping in through cracks in the window panes
settling in slow and gradual and heavy like a cat

The house is haunted
And I can't help but feel as though
I always have words stuck at the back of my teeth
something hanging at the tip of my tongue
confessions tangled up like wires in my throat

The house is haunted
I would know, for in the morning,
there would be dirty dishes in the kitchen sink
and breakfast neatly placed at the countertop
where there had been none the night before

The house is haunted
I would know, for in the middle of the night,
I would hear the keys jiggle and the locks click
and I would lie in the dark listening, waiting
staring blankly ahead, wondering if you were home

The house is haunted
I would know, I caught a few glimpses of him
through his dirty laundry stacked in the hamper
through his shoes left strewn on the porch
through the creaking of the bed as he lies beside me

The house is haunted
The nights are only getting colder, quieter
The scent of rot permeates through the walls
And I hear phantom whimpers of pain at night
I get scared even though I know they're mine

The house is haunted
Not by something that had once been alive
but of something so close to formation,
making its way to the barrier between fiction and reality
I am losing you and I don't know what to do

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