It lurks in the shadows

Creeks of doors when there is no draft

Footfalls on old wood even though I came alone

From the darkness, I can feel eyes on my back

At night in bed, I can feel freezing claws scrape across my skin

I wake with bruises, burns, and scars

I feel the sorrow and despair crawl from the depths of the floorboards

The rage and loathing breaking in the walls

The insane glee of trauma and suffering drips from the cracks in the ceiling