Ghosts

Ghosts
 
I have ghosts inside my closet hanging like old christmas sweaters, peering out and haunting me. The creatures inside my bloodstream are chewing me up. Purging me to feel something. An ounce of emotion, an ounce of care. To feel something. In the darkness I face my tormentors. Prosecutors hunting my soul. I slip in the whirlpool of confusion. My body drips out life like a faucet dripping droplets of water. Broken, tormented soul, a lifeless enigma. Casted in the shadows of my ghosts. Memories carried on the small of my back like a burden. My soul is ablaze emerging with grace, a new born child. I will let you play your game, spit out your cards in vain but in time I will play my ace and flip your world upside down. One more match and you will not survive.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741