Analysis of statue in a silent home

As the floor creeks is when a heart skips a beat.
As the floor creeks the more my brain leaks
these thoughts out all over my consciousness.

The isolation is killer
When I can’t muster up the courage if I shall venture hither.
As the statue roams the house of silence
The screams echo through the dungeon I am trapped in that is my mind.
Voices of my own often remind me of things I try to grow on from
The voices wrap around me like vines as I fight to crawl away into the empty safe room of all the things I hold dear.
I don’t want to be here.

As time flies
As time stands at a still
I always see things from a bottom of a hill
With tears blistering my eyes
From the brackish water it creates when it comes to wanting to end, to demise.

The statue that roams the halls
The statue that ruins all
That a little girl with a heart on each sleeve was.
Now the hearts get covered with sleeves like the cuts that cover thee.

Down the stairs the baby falls
Down the stairs the baby is dragged
Down the stairs the baby is mulled
By the emotions started by a statue
A statue in a house of silence
that is never really silent
A statue in a house of silence
 that never was silent
A statue in a house
that roams the halls
A statue
that hurts us all
A statue
 that will end up on a shelf to collect dust
A time that I will have to face
Hopefully at a coping pace
that I can hace.

Never shall I ever deal with the house of silence
For I have built upon my dungeon a castle for one to live alone..
Smoke clouds fumigate the ghosts of the premises that yell in a voice similar tone.
Similar smoke clouds that consumed the statues being.
As the last ghost speaks for the next passing hour(s)
It speaks
It screams
It begs
It states
“Hope your heart doesn’t become hard as stone.”
This warning of time sends shivers of anguish down my spine and leaves me prone.

Now that its just me
Now that its just me I can
I can be
I can exist
I can explore
I can see
I can see all that I missed.
Man why am I so pissed
The ghost hissed
The ghost is drowned out by the mist
The mist that stops the bleeding wrists
The kiss of death is close to me
Spinning in a circle
It seems like a miracle
When the eye shrinks down
To nothing but a 4 by 4
To nothing but a box
To I am nothing but a mere pixel
Til I am just the “pa” of every spit drop
Til I am weighted yet weightless
Til I turn fully stone from staring into the eyes of a medusa
Aren’t you supposed to protect me?
Is a statue what I am?
Or am I better than that man?