BREATHING

Your heart is pounding.

Your pulse is racing.

The house is alive.

It’s breathing.

It’s moving.

Illusions stalk you.

How can you escape?

You can’t.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

THE HOUSE

raised-from-the-grave

Source: xx || Edited by: me

An entity all its own.

A living,

breathing

force.

The walls hold secrets

of times gone by,

memories of long ago.

The house keeps

its secrets close.

DEAR STATUE

DEAR STATUE

So alive.
I could hear you breathing.
Is that a moan?
Maybe it was the wind.
Is that a rustle of clothing?
Maybe someone else is in the garden.
Is that a sigh?
I heard a sigh.
Are you tired of standing still?
Is that a tear on your cheek?
Your eyes look sad.
Reflecting a remorse so deep
that I can feel it.
What else do I feel?
A whisper of breath on my face.
Are you breathing, dear one?
Are you alive beneath the stone?
Raise your head.
Look me in the eye.
It’s time to be free.
Let your soul be free
and soar above on your wings.
Take flight, dear one.
Take flight.