#empty rooms

The corridors and vacant rooms seemed to echo innumerable footsteps, shufflings, the rustle of skirts, and a constant undertone of whispering.

-- Algernon Blackwood

I was in your home.

Someone I haven't seen or spoken to in a very long time.

Your face was a blur,

because I had forgotten it.

I watched as you painted pictures,

colored your walls,

cleaned your room.

Always moving through the room

to keep from going still.

I was a ghost

in your small room.

I tried to speak to you,

but you couldn't hear me.

I tried to write to you,

but my words disappeared.

For days,

I watched the same quiet rhythm,

until you finally left.

There was an emptiness there.

I stepped outside

and saw shooting stars,

but my vision filled with light,

and I couldn't see.

You've been gone for years now,

but your faded silhouette

still burns

into the cracked paint