Ghosts

I wish I could explain
The ghosts that tangle
Like weeds inside me,
Leaden and cold,
Pressing the breath
From my chest.

I am trapped
In this fortress of bone,
Listening to waves
Shatter against the shore.
Every second,
Less than I once was.

Can’t you see?
I am silvered glass,
Reflecting the colours
That hurt the least,
A brittle shell, echoing,
Mocked, by a relentless sea.