The Two-Week Stay At The Old Little House On The Hill

In the old house, the propane heater roared
with violet, subsided into reddish-pink,
and overheated me at night.

In the old house, the water was cloudy
and I was afraid to use it because
it could almost poison me.

In the old house, the guests are see-through
figments of my family's family's family's
family's family, and they gossip all night.

In the old house, the heater scared me,
the water was cancer, and the ghosts were the voices
in my head trying to fight the voices in my head.

-lj
24 February 2017