I lumbered around this house tonight
There’s a silence sparkling with regret
No sounds, only old ghosts inside of dusty frames.

The wreckage of an inability to speak traps me, crawling from the floors, up my legs, around my throat.
It wants me, for I’m to blame. It doesn’t let me sleep, it doesn’t dare let me dream.

It promises refuge, cold and blue.
It promises silence without the sparkling shadows.
It promises a way out from the lumbering.

What did I have? Everything.
What did I want? Everything.
What did I gain? Everything.
What did I trade? Everything.

It keeps whispering in my ear.
Reminding me of warm flesh and euphoria.
Reminding me of cold glass and soft edges.
Reminding me black steel and buckshot.

But I lumbered around this house tonight
Instead only listening to the nothing that’s here
Where not even the wreckage can make a peep.