She doesn’t live here anymore
In this dark, empty place of
Broken-promise windows,
And doors half-shut
On tomorrow’s faded dreams
That hold no future.

Jaded termites feast on
Sad, mistrustful walls.
Wormwood floorboards sag
Under pretentious pulpy lies,
While the patched and parched roof
Is slowly caving in on it all.

The only thing yet
Standing proud and tall
Is the rusty chainlink fence.
A survivor of countless wars,
It girdles the old, forgotten house,
Keeping the monsters at bay.

She doesn’t live here anymore.

©️2019 KT Workman

Photo via Pixabay

Published by

KT Workman

KT Workman grew up in the rural South without the benefit of cell phones or the Internet, a time and place that has heavily influenced her writing. To this day, when she puts pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—nine times out of ten her mind veers south onto that old, familiar road. It goes home. KT resides in Arkansas where she writes a wide variety of gothic and speculative fiction, poetry, and dabbles in watercolor painting and amateur photography.

19 thoughts on “Anymore”

  1. This is an amazing piece of writing Kathy.
    My first thoughts on reading this is that,
    She, was one of the monsters the chain link
    fence kept at bay. Kept her locked in.
    Anyway, right or wrong, I like my version. ☺️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi, Alan. I think the reason it didn’t show up is because both comments needed to be approved because they showed as coming from “Someone”, and not you.
      Thank you very much for your insightful comment…I think you pretty well got it right. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Yes, memories can become old and dilapidated houses, keeping an individual locked in or out. Love your line upon line of sense imagery that allows the reader to see that house for what it is. And grateful for that last line that she no longer ‘lives’ there.


    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.