Walking With Ghosts

Walking With Ghosts Part Two (New Poem)

Crunching over broken bottle and fag ends, I stand over you

Those brown eyes of yours wide open, gazing beyond this world.

Lying in a sticky pool of your own blood,

I see you truly for the first time.

Like mist rising from wet grass,

Your ghost leaves your body,

Forming it’s shape in my soul,

Your heart beating it’s steady rhythm next to mine.

Without a word or expression I leave you broken.

Walking through empty streets practically in a coma

No one cares you have taken your last breathe,

Nor will they ever.

Reaching home, I shower away all traces of you

In the steam rising off my body in the heat, I can see your face

Our secrets should have died that night to

But you made sure they didn’t

Because since then I have been walking with your ghost.

Kneeling in front of you like a starving dog,

I am confessing my sins,

I will hand you the gun.


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