The House that Regret Built

The welcome mat read "repentance welcome"

barely visible on the doormat

as if spoken like a whisper.

I stepped through doorways framed with disappointment

down a hallway famed for worries.

Aged floral wallpaper peeling on the edges

of low ceilings.

The scent of burnt toast lingered in the kitchen

where countertops were still wet

from splashes of spilt milk.

Unsent letters sob

in locked drawers upstairs.

The attic moans mournfully;

it echoes through the throat of the chimney,

into the living room where all the plants have withered.

Flower petals crisp as ash, sprinkled,

like macabre confetti on side tables.

There are no mirrors.

It is only ghosts that come to stay here.

If you visit,

whatever you do,

don't

go in

the basement.

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading and supporting my work with your reads, likes, and comments. It truly means the world. If you appreciate my work and would like to support me further my first book, Demortalizing, is available for pre-order purchase on my website! It is being self-published so every cent truly supports this blooming poet. Click HERE to check it out or copy and paste the link below.

https://www.elliehoovs.com/shop/p/demortalizing