those ghosts
I see
haunting me
digging up
all my buried sorrow
I'm crying in the night
something deep inside
writhes inside me
eating and chewing away
at my problematic soul
continually telling me
it's normal and okay
to be depressed and sad
but it's not vanity or okay
that I'm always alone
some moaning spectre
whispers about the morrow
wailing over troubles in my mind
something truly terrifying
always horrifying me
that menacing knife
grasped in my trembling hand
constantly carving away
I don't want to know how deep
I regret what I might find to say
slicing through my memories and dreams
nightmares taint my being
while I'm dreaming and sleeping
nightmare ghosts taunting me
wanting me to go
just what I'm thinking
like I'm still alive
just what I'm seeing
into some unseen realm
those capricious torrid things
I see and most often feel
those horrid phantoms
that seem all too real
stealing away hope and love
I wish and want to feel
tearing at my hopeless soul
searing pain pealing away
life's passion with its sacred seal
if I were okay
all those rakish ghosts
if I were whole
would never say
my sorrowful failure is real
all those spectres and phantoms
from night to night
I'd somehow hold at bay
from day to each new day
good thoughts and dreams
would come and stay
all that costly wonder
wouldn't let me flounder
trouble wouldn't follow me
wanting to see me
fall and blunder

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