A Book of Haunts
By Jessica DAmbrosio
Your green eyes stare at me through
broken glass.
A mirror on the wall reflects
the brass vase,
in which sits a single dead rose.
The wind storms through
the attic,
with a howl so fierce
a tragic cry echoes in its voice.
I feel as though the air cuts through me
like a thorn,
piercing the petal of a flower.
As I sneak across the cold, damp floor,
the wind finds me again. I open
the door to a room,
that has been abandoned for years.
The scent
of decaying happiness
torments my nose and burns my eyes.
I am careful not to disrupt the memories
of the past,
as I tiptoe over to the dresser
and bypass so many unfamiliar objects.
Your tattered book lies open on the
dressing table.
I overtake the volume quickly and
am able to retrieve your treasure, once lost.
In one fluid movement, I shove
the book
into my pocket and hurry down the creaking steps,
exhilarated by what I just took.
The door I had always beheld from the outside
looks so unfamiliar
from inside the house. As I reach for the doorknob
I once again feel the cold shudder.
A feeling of anxiety comes over me
as I walk out the door
with what belongs to you.
I have never been in the house before,
and I will never go back again.
I restore to you
your book of poems.
And by going into that old house,
the past came alive
and will haunt me;
for all of eternity.
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