Do I… haunt?

Does it haunt you?

Do I?

When I climb in your mind when your thoughts are thought through?

Will I linger and seep and forever disdain?

Does my voice still resound? Do you hear me?

Can you still taste my skin, do my fingers entangle, do they grasp you?

Do you walk paths we walked? Does your step fall in line with some other?

Do you wish they were I?

When your eyelashes close oh so slowly…

When you feel feathered blows. When the wind brushes past and I touch you.

Does it hurt? Does it pain? Are you wounded?

Do you scream out my name with your rage, with your fury – with dead love?

Do you cry when you sleep? Do you wish that your dreams brought me to you?

You are not in my mind. You are lost, you’re not you. There’s no us.

We’ve now passed, we’re now lost. We can’t live.

So these words that you read – they’re not real, they’re not me.

They are here to haunt you…

One thought on “Do I… haunt?

  1. cruel dawn leave me be
    your pale glow mocks peace-less night
    would that i could deny your march to steal the only star (dream) left.
    i could gladly skip your gifts of fresh heartache.
    I resent your theft of my turmoil”s peace
    silence, my only wanted companion.
    I hate you daylight, and you humanity.
    You steal my hours, and pretend your baubles entice me.
    life, you reject my every wish; fine. I banish you.
    bird, i hate your annoying repetition. and yours, and yours too. especially you rooster. I care not for your self-important posturing.
    What gives you the right to litter all over the pure quiet. (ignoring the endless drones hurrying off to slave for trinkets of comfort.)
    crow, your lack of improvisation is pathetic.
    (and i know pathetic well.)
    I care not for your pretend jubilance.
    you are transparent, trying only to spread your seed.
    I have so much more caring to give a partner.
    and so much less desire
    to find the next woman to take & take & take. .
    fuck you life. Your charms have worn through the bone.
    nothing left to grind.
    sustanence, be damned.
    my only control, this vessel of capable strength,
    I command, wither and die. I am exhausted from helping you.
    no good deed goes unpunished
    rising above

    Liked by 1 person

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