The House That Breathes

The House That Breathes

There is a house that breathes at night,

Its windows sigh when the moon climbs high,

And the walls remember every word,

Whispered in love or fear or lie.

I walk its halls with quiet feet,

The floorboards hum beneath my skin,

Every room a pulse of thought,

Every door a dream within.

The curtains move though no wind stirs,

A hand unseen smooths out their lace,

And something hums a distant tune,

That echoes through this hollow space.

I see her sometimes near the stair,

Her eyes like pools of endless dusk,

She does not speak she only stares,

And leaves the air with ghostly musk.

I do not run I never will,

This house is part of who I am,

It breathes with me it knows my will,

It holds my soul like gentle sand.

So let it breathe let shadows stay,

Let whispers fill the sleeping air,

For in this house that will not die,

I live with those still waiting there.