A.N. I haven’t written in a while! Please bear with me on this one. 

          — Beatrice

Late at night, when I can’t sleep,

I listen to the floorboards creak

Beneath the weight of all the ghosts

Who haunt the dreams I love the most

I see their faces in the dark

Eyes so sad they break my heart

They look at me, but they can’t speak

And so they pace, and floorboards creak

I can’t sleep in this house alone

The hinges squeak, and the shingles groan

The ghosts emerge in the dead of night

Fading in and out of sight

I see them there, but I don’t know

What they need, where I should go

So I lie there, curled in my bed,

And watch the faces of the risen dead

Soon I will join them, one day I will go

When my story is over, when my candle is blown

And then I, too, might haunt this house

Find another from sleep to rouse

But, until that time, I’ll stare through the night

At the faces who come when I can’t see the light

Though I miss them dearly, they won’t speak

We’ll wallow in silence, until a floorboard creaks

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