An empty house is full of echoes
with nothing left to make them.
I stood at this window for five years
and watched this corner of the earth.
What a fucking random corner
But I liked it.
My voice bounces off the walls
and fills the halls with resonance.
Without the bookshelf to lure it in
or couch inviting it to rest
my voice could go on forever
Echoing long after I’ve left;
which will be five minutes from now.