WALL CREEPER

Like a ghost trying to keep the new homeowners out of the attic

I feel nothing but the futility of my actions

I’m tired

In all the ways you can be tired, that’s me

I just want to sleep

But of course some strange sound breaks the quiet

And of course I start to think someone is living in the walls

My greatest fear

Well, maybe not my greatest

That would be dying alone

And clowns

I have nightmares about someone being the house that doesn’t belong

Not the worst of the nightmares I have though

Don’t really want to talk about those

The ones where I finally meet someone and she likes me back but my father appears and says some weird shit and she disappears are worse

There’s a lot to unpack there

But I’ll leave it there like a suitcase after a long trip

Or that one box that never gets touched even though you moved into your new place like five years ago

Maybe I’m a hoarder

But of thoughts and memories and emotions

Clinging onto them because I might need them for some nebulous project one day

Maybe I should get a cat