The House Remembers
- Francesca Howard
- Apr 1
- 1 min read
Updated: Sep 11
The bed still feels empty without you.
The walls hold the sound of your laughter,
the ghosts of bodies pressed against them.
The mirror reflects the smile you used to have.
I wonder if you still have it.
The house remembers you
even if the world has forgotten.
It waits.
It wonders.
It calls out in the hopeless night,
just in case you’re listening.
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