The House That Remembered Her Name

The house remembered her

in ways she never imagined.

Her footsteps lived in the floorboards,

soft echoes that refused to fade.

Her laughter stayed tangled

in the curtains she once opened at sunrise.

Her dreams still floated

in the corners where she used to sit and think.

Even the windows missed her

they waited for her hands

to wipe away their fog

and trace a hopeful shape in the glass.

The door still creaked the way it did

when she slipped out quietly,

promising she’d be back soon

even though her heart was already leaving.

Nights felt different now.

The house held its breath,

listening for her voice

in the empty rooms she used to fill.

Every shadow looked like her,

every breeze whispered her name,

as if the walls themselves

had learned how to miss someone.

She walked away believing

she was leaving an empty place behind.

But the house stayed loyal

guarding her memories,

keeping every moment safe,

loving her in silence.

Because some homes forget,

but this one never did.

It still whispered her name

to anyone who listened closely enough.