In my house of mirrors, time slows when I talk,
And the writing on the walls drips boiling chalk.
Ancient terrors sneak out of every reflection.
Let their teeth consume you section by section.
In this house of dim lighting, nobody ever speaks.
We scream as blue hours form blurry weeks.
The beasts we nurture inside our own chests
Come out to play with the venomous pests.
In our house of sharp edges, silence prevails.
We erase the news and blow up the mail.
Candlelit rooms keep their hexes and ghouls,
And you must let them turn you into a fool.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 