the walls remember things
not just the sounds but the shaking in the air after
sometimes i hear it too
like someone sighing where no one stands
the candle burns uneven
it cries in red
i watch it melt and wonder
if it hurts to be that slow
the floor creaks when i dont move
it knows my name now
something breathes beneath it
soft like it doesnt want to be caught
the mirror wont show my face anymore
its tired of pretending im still here
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Author:
R.W (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 5th, 2025 04:50
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments1
That is the epitome of being ignored when the mirror won't even acknowledge you. A poem of being ostracized. Well done
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