366 Poems: June 26th, 2016

My Ghosts

A ghost sits on my trophy shelves,

in photographs, in wishing wells

and reminds me of all the Hells

that I have once lived through.

Another sits in my old friends.

Inside the halls, we play pretend

that there was not a horrid end

where we said we were through.

A million ghosts all haunting me

like all the girls I used to be,

and they sing so poetically

about times tried and true.

But I will take them as they pass

and know these hauntings never last,

but even so, I always ask

that none of them be you.


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