My home is a horror movie
What with the steady drip drip drip from the faucet
and the dirty dishes lining the counters
Of
not only the kitchen
Though all the windows are open, no light shines through
and the walls are painted with muck and grime, and everything had a certain dull to it, similar to dusk
And though this home is filled with people, it feels empty
and it is quiet
Or maybe the dull is too loud for the humans to speak
There is one dog, one baby, and one bird
and they all pace the home in single-file
with a steady march-tune drifting through their heads
my home is a horror movie
as the sun shines brightly outside, though the structure is untouched
Ghosts roam the basement, warmer than the four walls above, yet
Every closet houses a skeleton
and werewolves prowl the grounds outside, digging at the foundation and howling at the stars
Vampires sleep in the attic
And Mothman sits on our roof
but none of these
are the scariest part.
