You talked so easily of the house
and its new family
who have chopped down walls
and added on in back.
its support beams trembling
under the weight of wounded childhood.
The ceilings and floorboards
standing in mute witness to the horror
of brandished knives, threatened lives,
and pleas for mercy from a madman.
Can sanding and new paint
erase those stains?
We reminisced about the two ghostly girls,
fearful as startled mice,
who crept quietly from its depths
Such pity afforded them
from the safe distance of nobody else's business.
Not one willing to bang down the door
when the murderous midnight screams
fell off to nothing.
Is it still whispered from the foundation
the secrets that house keeps within?