Streetlamps flicker like tired eyes

Streetlamps flicker like tired eyes,

and the cracked sidewalk cracks again

beneath my slow steps.

Porches watch in silence,

empty like a breath held too long,

the night swallowing quiet secrets

no one dares say.

Phones ring out to nowhere,

a static chorus of missed calls,

while shadows stretch too long

between houses that hold their breath.

This town keeps its ghosts close—

not in graveyards,

but waiting in the hush,

the dark corners where nothing moves

except the weight

of all that’s left unsaid.