I 
Am a haunted house- 
All Locked doors and broken windows. 
When you first moved in, 
You put up curtains 
And let them blow in the breeze- 
Hung up paintings on the walls 
And called me beautiful. 
You did not scrub the blood stains off the floorboards 
But you flicked all on the lights, 
Danced in the kitchen- 
Baked rhubarb pie in an oven no ones used for years. 
When I told you about the man in the basement, 
The rattling Chains and the way his hands make a necklace around my throat sometimes, 
You believed me. 
We lit sage 
And asked him to make room, 
You turned up the music 
And planted basil in the window sills, 
Made this house more parts home than vacant, 
Wrapped me up in fairy lights and made it look so beautiful it was almost easy to believe- 
But darling, 
To love me is to love a haunted house, 
It’s cool to visit once a year but no one wants to live here, 
No one wants to hold a cemetery type Palm. 
When you planted the for sale sign 
In the front yard 
I almost didn’t believe it. 
You sat by the window sill, fresh cup of tea in hand 
A slice of home made rhubarb pie, 
But you watched the house across the street like there was something else there, 
Like there was something I am missing- and maybe There is? 
I keep waiting for you to change your mind- 
For you to take the for sale sign down- and sometimes you look at it too long 
Like maybe 
Maybe there’s still a chance 
Still more time 
Still more hope 
Still more. 
And sometimes, you look at the paintings on the wall like you still love me and 
I get it. 
He is more home than house, more furnished than fixer upper, more carpet less nail, 
I get it 
I am a haunted thing, 
More tourist attraction than person— 
I have seen people like you before, 
The bedroom walls weren’t always blue 
But I thought maybe this time the fresh coat of paint meant something, 
I thought maybe this time 
You would want to stay. 
But I am all bent floorboards and stories most people don’t actually believe, 
I am all shell and no meat, 
All come and go, 
All broken heartbeat 
All desperation 
Don’t go 
Please don’t go 
Please 
This world is not meant for haunted things, but I thought that maybe you loved me anyway? 
All spectacle no permanence, 
All Friday night fling no sentience, 
I am all property potential, all trinket, all story book, 
All novelty no attachment, 
All “this was never a forever type thing” 
I get it. 
I am a rotting house, 
I am 
A rotting girl, 
But I love you With every chipped piece of paint Every scratched record playing on phantom ears- With every broken window, bent floorboard, leaking roof tile- I just thought 
That maybe 
I would be enough this time.

Haunted House

If I had to describe myself I'd say I'm not very hard to kill. (18)

Kami