dusty wounds

I am trapped in a house.
I think it is mine, or at least supposed to be that.
But it scares me.
I hear strange noises and see shadows dancing in the living room at night and sometimes the air in the rooms gets so thick I can hardly breathe.
My only hope is that I know there is a world out there left, a world I know I came from once and even though I can't know if I'll ever make my way back there, I am writing this in case someone from out there can make their way through to me.
Then these texts will be waiting for them and then I know something of me will have existed.