moar poetry (mine this time)

[1_2_suckerpunch]

I have never been
so empty.

My house creaks
so quiet
so still.
Breath of ghosts
passes silent,
rustles curtains;
whisper sounds fall to the floor
and roll into corners,
behind chairs,
collecting dust.

Worry makes me hollow.
Anxious demons
lurk and scurry,
haunt doorways.

Every footstep
lingers loud,
throwing stones,
crumbling the fragile precipice.

I have never felt
so uninhabited.