The House

There are many rooms in the house that are dark, that have never seen the light of day.
I fear going inside.
I tiptoe on the floorboards,
Hoping not to make a creak.
I stand before a dusty window,
straining to see my reflection on nights that I cannot sleep.
There are many others who live with me,
But I do not know their names.
My former selves are buried beneath, they haunt me and cast blame.
What lies beyond property line?
I struggle for escape,
Until I realize the house is my sacred place,
from which I choose my fate.

©2016 Anj Dixon

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