7/24/22

wren

When I was younger I could see ghosts.

A tall woman swaying a lonely dance, arms stretched high above her head

A man laying cold in my parent’s bed, head turned to face the open window

A little girl standing at the end of a long asphalt street in a lilac nightgown, calmly watching the trees

I do not know if they could see me, alone in their quiet pockets of time

I do not know if they were even really there

They did not speak to me then

They speak to me now

Forgotten conversations fold into rustling pages of whispers

Sorrows, anger, joy

Perhaps my eyes are now too weary, but I know them still

A touch upon my cheekbone as I lay in bed

Fingertips sliding over the dust on my bookshelf

A quiet knock upon my door

A product of my loneliness, a product of my desire

My heartbeat has never been so loud

  • Author: wren (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 26th, 2022 00:26
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 20
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