Why are the portraits of entities without faces or names the frames I hang?
Covered in cobwebs I actively avoid them.
Yet they are the souls I allow to haunt my home.
Not the photos of familiar faces.
No those souls stay behind and look inward through foggy windows.
I welcome who I know in, but they only come for quick visits.
I see them, then they are gone.
It is the faceless, nameless portraits that I keep images of in my mind’s eye.
Even with no eyes the portraits stare back at me with purpose unseen.
And when I find the courage to ask their purpose they have no mouths to speak it.
Yet they can scream louder than those with mouths.
Why do I give the unknown a place in my home?
Why not toss them aside?
But no I let them hide in hallways.
Because the ones I take down leave nails, wires, hooks and holes in my walls.
Even if I toss them out they still linger beyond my sight.
Maybe being hung in new homes.
I hope they rot in a dump once thrown.
But it’s unlikely.
Because it's the unknown portraits of the nameless and faceless that I,
and others like me,
chose to hang on our walls.
No eyes yet they stare deeper than anything, but at nothing distinguishable.
No mouths yet they scream louder than anything, but with no words decipherable.
I, you, we cling to them in hopes of finding meaning.
And those who claim they do stand beside those nameless, faceless portraits
and fade into wall flowers.
And each portrait lingers long after their owner fades.
Still with no name and no face,
staring with no eyes, and screaming with no mouth.
Waiting again to be picked up, hung and haunt the homes of whom they occupy.