People are scared of the dark,
I don't know why.
There is nothing there in the dark that isn't there in the light.
in the light you will see something if it's scary;
Where as in the dark you won't.

Why fear something that hides your fears?

We weren't what everyone would think to be in love,


We would        sit for hours without talking,                just      looking at eachother.
In Silence.

                               How many   Nights did we                          Spend  staring at the stars,
                                    Hand in hand,
     Head on your chest, I heard your heart pound.


We weren't romantic love songs and picnics in the park,
              
                 We were ****** wrists and visible bones, bones that we loved of eachother so much.

We never said any vowes  or declarations,
            Yet        We knew eachother inside out,


                      In depth.


                                             We were never about sweet nothings, but about raw truth and love,
                  

           Spent days
Learning you, studying you,

                       I knew your every thought,
As you knew mine,


                             We spoke of every night that we slept alone and longed for someone just to hold.



           See,


                          We were both just lonely, eternally, internally.
                  We just needed someone to know us, to know our sadness,

                  To be our happiness,




You
                    Were
                     ­                             Mine.

Run away, child,
Don't let me in,
I'm a demon,
I'm a devil,
I'll teach you how to sin.

Run away, little son,
Don't look into my eyes,
They are black-blue, they are deadly,
And full of dangerous lies.

Run away, little daughter,
Before your mind I will slaughter,
My existence knows no love,
I was expelled from above.

You can never run away,
Your mind is my slave,
I will haunt you until you die,
Never to leave your side.

Run away, child.
While you're still alive.

My house is filled with ghosts,
That only I can see,
I try to tell my mother,
But she laughs at me.

They haunt my every step,
Whispering past events,
telling me their stories,
Filling me with worries.

I lay in bed at night,
Full of anxiety and fright,
That one of them might try to hurt me.

I see jet black figures in my mirrors,
And deformed silhouettes in my windows,
I close my eyes and pray for them to go away.

I guess I'm just intruding,
Living where they once did,
They have followed me around since I was a kid.

My mother takes me to the doctor,
Who diagnoses  me with schizophrenia,
Says' it's all in my head,
That I can't see anyone who's dead.

Locked in an institution for days,
They still wouldn't go away,
They never left my side,
They haunt me still to this day.

i keep seeing a ghost in the corner of my eye.
it sits on a box just outside my door, looking vacantly, vaguely in my direction. it's hard for me not to glance back.
it's sitting on a box of old clothes.
i cleaned my closet this morning, as well as my desk and floor.
but while i threw out the dust and old tissues, the clothes remain, in the box, outside my door, being used as a chair for the ghost. it's still there.
i just reread and edited all that i've written so far. still there.
it doesn't knock, or pace, or threaten, or cage. it just stares. and yet its gaze feels like it is doing all of the things i mentioned, and a little more.
why are all my poems about death? perhaps all these ghosts that pass by my house beg me to tell their story. perhaps i am an ouija board, with a laptop. perhaps i'm a dream-catcher, looking for some place to write down all these nightmares i catch. perhaps i'm just dumb and spiritual. ghost's still sitting on that box of old clothes. it's glanced away.