When you stare through your foggy windows with your blank blue eyes,
what do you see?
Life won't be changing too fast, unless you take a peek into the Looking Glass.
Fear not, my dear. The secret art of ghost is not yet here.
...
Similar to something that fades..
Seeing it as alright though, my heart squeezed dangerously as I caught sight of thy name.
The use of memory pushes against what is now present,
A gift.
...
After the whisper of the morning I sit up in bed.
I smooth down the white silk sheets, straighten the picture frame over head.
I recurl the ends of my hair, dab on rosy-cheeked blush.
Rub on red lipstick,
...
Inhale.
Gather back the memories and the lies.
That poem, tearing of the mistaken eyes.
Happiness, her smile. And, your own.
...
My momma says to be careful,
To not fall too hard.
That I'm still picking up my heart, little pieces of bloody shards.
I'm still teaching myself how to breathe, screaming was all I knew.
...
I sit here alone, and I'm waiting.
Your face will soon appear, and I'll hear your hisses as you come near.
Your rumbling skin will brush against mine, and I hear your bones cracking underneath.
Your choking breath gets hot as you seek.
...