I don’t think my house is haunted
Though the floors creak with every step
As if they are exhausted
The walls hum faintly at night
Like whispers brushing past my ear
Gone before the morning light
The windows tremble when the air is still
Their glass like teeth that softly chatter
As if the house can feel the chill
The door creeps open when nothing’s there
A distant knock repeats without a hand
Cold footsteps travel up each stair
I don’t think my house is haunted
Though my name hisses through the hallway
As if I’m being taunted
