When I was a little girl,
veins lined the walls, strong
masculine…
Cabinets breathed in and out
as sleep etched on the mischief…
Long walks down the hall echoed
lonely steps…
At night fingers played footsie
to stay awake…
The invisible seemed to watch,
walk around translucent.
Illumination was my friend for years, while
the dark creepy crawled on shaggy legs.
Vampiric cold, iced on Southern limbs…
Name called on the melodic atmosphere,
answered in deaf tones.
Solid, watching me slumber, a gasp
emerges on liquified transparency.
They do walk among, misplaced, voiceless,
or keepers of our soul, traversing from
dimensional episodes, some reliving lives.
Respect these inner sanctums, the columns
of souls who will one day play in peace
on stone epitaphs.
*THIS IS MY OWN POETIC TAKE ON TRUE EVENTS THAT
HAPPENED WHEN I WAS A CHILD. ALSO, THE PICTURE IS
ONE I ACTUALLY TOOK OF THE FRONT YARD, AND IF YOU LOOK
CLOSELY, THERE ARE SEVERAL GHOSTLY IMAGES IMBEDDED THERE*
PoeticDarkness 
JMC813
Very Interesting.