Put away your welcome suit, there is no need for it here. Close the door for it never needs to be opened. Lock the door and bolt the windows. Take down the posters and just sit.
Upstairs you can hear the creaking. It’s incessant. Sometimes you can hear a voice talking to no one, chairs scraping across the thin floor.
Creaking so loudly the wood bows under the pressure. A sudden tumble and a fall, the impact of a hundred pounds of flesh. The cards were on the table all the time.
A distant revelation re-read a thousand times. The lines are drawn, and the night extends touching all quarters of the day.
I’m sure you were long gone. I never looked, I never needed to. The hallway was silent, just the one room occupied upstairs by a ghost.
The ceiling is silent once again. No more barrel laughs, no more heady heights. It has just become another wall. Another boundary never to cross nor need think about again or to acknowledge.
A rotational thought process that involves mind numbing equations. The personal safety net of a soul propagated by buildings dressed up as emotions.
Music playing into empty space, a scarlet girl weeping on a wooden chair.
One tear rolling free down silk smooth skin, wiped away by a calloused hand. Legs in motion and the door is closed firmly behind me.