Mangled senses and the truth

 


Soft patter against a silent house.

Contant whisper that sound below.

BANG

Murmuring against the floor boards, through the walls.

SSCCCRRREEEHHHHH

Constant sounding throughout the house.

Its never quiet.

SMACK

Straint hear, to listen;

wondering once again.

Muffled, distant

peer over the corner

sneak down the stairs,

slowly open the door;

soft and soothing.

Its only the whispers

of the constant murmurs

performers on the black screen.

Shut the door quietly,

tip-toe back up the stairs,

lay in bed

to listen once again

what the walls would say

altered, twisted

or merely the truth

Once again

 

 
 
 

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