Back to the Old House
It’s dead dust breath seeping though splintered doorways. The dark hiss of long forgotten stations. Endless nights huddled in the death shed, and tears at bedtime. The house is calling, but you don’t pick up.
You’ve tried to forget, to make a fresh start and be somebody new, but it’s all bullshit. Everything that counts for anything went down in that fucking house. Bad things happened, and you were a part of it. You left unfinished business. That’s why you need to go back. To finish it. To end it all.
You would rather not go back to the old house.
But you will.