Teeth in the Walls

The hallway bends when no one's near,

It sighs beneath a breathless fear.

The light switch flicks, the bulb goes dead—

A shadow moves, but no one fled.

The wallpaper peels like curling skin,

And something laughs from deep within.

Its voice is wet, like mud and bone,

It hums in chords you shouldn’t know.

The mirror’s grin is not your own,

It stretches wide, then cracks the tone.

Your hands are gloves of stranger’s flesh—

Your name is gone, your mouth won’t mesh.

The floorboards pulse like veins on fire,

Each step a twitch, a twitch, a choir

Of whispers sewn with broken thread,

All chanting things the dead have said.

You open doors to find more doors,

And through them crawl forgotten wars.

The ceiling drips with melted clocks,

Each tick a tooth, each tock a knock.

Sleep now, child, the night is near—

Your bones are warm, your thoughts unclear.

Close your eyes, but don’t go deep…

That’s when the house begins to eat.