there are ghosts.

there are ghosts in the walls that whisper my name at night,

when i cannot sleep and the full moon's light hits my face,

they tell about past and present and leave future up to me.

there are spiders in the attic that crawl over my skin,

reminders of what i've done and what is yet to be done.

they crawl away, off my skin,

into crowded rooms of boxes.

there are snakes in the basement that hiss names,

who make me want to writhe in pain.

their fangs are bared and mouths are wide, yet they never bite

but one day they might snap-

and i won't be so lucky.

there are memories in my head of times

when i wasn't stuck inside this house,

when someone loved me,

when someone cared.

but those memories have gone sour

and i can't bear to remember them.

you are the ghosts in the walls,

the spiders in the attic,

the snakes in the basement,

and you used to be the memories in my head.