ghosts of years gone by
haunt the halls of this
empty home

pictures reframed and
walls painted over so well
you almost don’t notice the
crimson spatters

but every time I drive past that
colored glass
you’re standing in the window
trapped in a house you can’t flee
screaming all the things I wish you’d say
to me

silence. you live in
silence and you’re fading,
fraying at the edges

but you’ll never leave,
will you?
I can never go home

Featured in Edition 1 of The Dilettante.