Empty House

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.