The house slumps against overgrown yards
Where gardens wilt against the ground,
Begging for sleep beneath gray skies.
Vines move through weeds
Like brittle fingers,
Reaching toward a sagging door
Where paint peels like weathered skin,
Curling in agony against the grain.
Once vibrant, now fading
Like all doorways to yesterday.
This is where memories flee,
Lying in wait like dormant ghosts
That walk through the walls of my mind
As I walk through the door.
The hinges creak in protest,
Rusted by the rain of forgotten days.
The floors squeak in upset,
Unaccustomed to my timid feet.
The dust is stirred, the silence snaps
Like twigs used for kindling
To spark my tepid heart.
A decade becomes a moment.
A moment becomes a lifetime.
This is where memories live,
Trapped in time like restless ghosts
That walk through walls and haunt the halls
Of doorways to yesterday.
Though broken, they open
To swallow me whole.