There is a house on Lavender Court
Confining four lonely bedrooms and five stale baths,
Reaching and searching for their lost visitors.
It’s been four years now.
Their gray, floating spirits haunt the numerous hallways of the acropolis,
The moaning and groaning tuned out by the screaming sound of silence,
CDs full of lyrics singing words that should be said
Sit enclosed in their cases, never played.
Lost emotions covered by the thick plaster of beige paint,
Often one can see the discoloring.
Four-year-old boxes of unopened food sit expired in the back of the pantry
Forgotten like the man who sleeps over empty picture frames shoved under his mattress,
Forgotten like the girl who is hardened;
Yet when she tells stories of old memories with ghosts
Sometimes one can catch a twinkle in her eyes.
The grey cinderblock bricks that can be seen from innocent Lavender Court
Have pushed out the sharp points of mountains,
Working as a scalpel to any sort of human contact;
The walls were not always this tough.
Bella Brocato is a fifteen-year-old girl attending St. Mary's Dominican High School in Louisiana. She spends her time writing, playing guitar, and getting inspired. Her goal is to write the words that will brighten up a bad day.