I am a haunted house. And the ghosts in me don't know where they are allowed to go. If they can leave or not.
That's fine though.
My bones are broken staircases and my head is an empty attic covered in dust.
My nails are the bricks that toppled over into the back yard and Veronica has never been a friend.
There Is chopped up wood in the fire pit and there are echoes of aches long forgotten. And all I am is a haunted house that you think is so cool to see.
To sneak around and sneak inside to see they reminders of mysteries that only my door frames and floorboards recognize.
I am a haunted house.
And all the attention
All my attractions
Are superficial.
YOU ARE READING
some songs I wrote
Poetryexactly what the title entails- just some songs I wrote. I might put them up on youtube sometime idk.
