The Staircase That Watches

The Staircase That Watches

Each step was waiting,

Old and aware,

Holding the whispers,

Caught in the air.

The boards were restless,

Under my tread,

Shaking with secrets,

Never quite dead.

A creak behind me,

Soft as a sigh,

Made all my heartbeat,

Rise to the sky.

Something was shifting,

Up in the gloom,

Pressing its presence,

Through the whole room.

The walls grew colder,

Leaning in tight,

Listening closely,

Drinking the night.

My breath felt heavy,

Stuck in my throat,

Hanging in silence,

Barely afloat.

I reached the landing,

Trembling inside,

Wishing that shadows,

Had nowhere to hide.

Still that old staircase,

Waits for my feet,

Ready to follow,

Ready to meet.