Ghosts leave imprints of people on places. Places soak up the tendrils of the dead, hoping to sponge up the last particles of life.
Rust and rot char away at broken windows
infested wood frames
and twisted metal of shells of homes.
Ghosts transcend dimensions to cling to the unfinished memories
memories of a life half lived.
Unanswered letters blow in the dead hanging breeze, never to be opened,
apologies left unsaid, half truths, and honey soaked flattery fading into the pages,
disappearing like the dust of the desert.
I refuse to live among the ghosts, I refuse to live a cursed life. I won't trap myself like an animal. Losing my humanity, laying wake to insanity. Becoming something raw, primal and savage. Ghosts are petty fed on revenge and jealousy of the living.
I want to live in the sun, i want to shout to the tops of branches, i will be known today!
when my time grows short, i won't gasp for images of the past, my life will have been full.
Surrounded by my children and grand-children.
Grey haired and content. I refuse to fade into a ghost.
I will live a life loved. Full.
My ghosts will fade, i will no longer be prisoner.
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