Convoluted Perception

Every night I walk up to a house...a house that looms higher than the incandescent streetlamps. It's shadows dim the white light that radiates from the  bulbs. The darkness is a monster in itself, consuming all emotion and leaving you with nothing.
You walk past the once egg-white picket fence that is moulding and flaking like your past relationships.
You notice the over grown grass getting higher and higher, suffocating you but you just don't care. It's too late to cut it. Nothing good will come out of it.
I look at the old, water logged weather board which termites have eaten through. If I cast my mind back it used to hold the sheen of the suns rays but now is dead like the rest.
Walking slowly up the steps I am back to where I always am.
Each standing, waiting to respond.
Silence.
The night larks stop.
Dead Silent.
And Then For The First Time Ever
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i knock.