Wandering the empty hallways, looking at gaping floors. Echoing my voice across from you.
Artifacts left behind for us to find. A doll, a can of soup, and a cracked mirror. Who were those ancestors that walked the same rooms?
Who lived in my room before me? Why didn't they clean this stain off the carpet?
Like strolling inside a dollhouse, I come alone to every doorframe, paper thin walls, moved like a plaything through.
