Haunted House

I tell her time and again that the house is haunted,

That its time to move on, but she doesn’t listen.

I look at our beagle and his eyes start to glisten, -

He scowls at me, grins and howls, undaunted.

As I walk up the stairs, there’s a man in the mirror,

He watches me calmly, without ever speaking.

I squeeze on the railing until it starts creaking, -

I rush to the bedroom, but still feel him near me.

She turns off the light and the walls become gray.

My whole body shakes as I lie down beside her,

And the black chandelier starts to sway like a spider,

Slowly stretching its tentacles towards the prey.

One day, I’ll convince her that it’s not in my head,

That I was telling the truth right from the onset,

That the painting frames change their colors at sunset,

And that a skeleton’s hidding under our bed.