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You haunt me,
A poltergeist lingering
In my hollow body,
Creating and rearranging
Countless mementos
Adorning the crumbling walls
That hold me together
I trip and stumble
Over the sweet flavor
Of words on the tip
Of my eager tongue

I savor the taste
Of hazy thoughts
Perched playfully
Just behind my lips
Presque-Vu (French) means “almost seen,” and refers to that sensation of forgetting or not being able to remember something, but feeling that you could remember it any minute.
I watched you there,
Drinking from the sun
Swallowing beams
Of the most radiant light
I saw with aching eyes
The shadow that you cast
And traced your silhouette,
Drawn into the lovely void
That trailed behind you
Death reaches for me
From a distance
With a pale hand
But the ancient fingers
Like the threads of time
Can only extend so far

Death looks at me
With slow eyes
Holding my gaze
Like one might hold
A dying animal
A despairing embrace

Death begs me,
With bloodied lips
And broken words,
To come with him
For death is often lonely
And so am I
This is a poem about dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts.
Come and sit beneath the tree
We'll watch the fairies, wild and free
Shimmering wings dart here and there
Carrying tiny beings without a care
On tiny toadstools they do land
With blooms and berries in their hands
Wearing broken twigs and maple leaves
And bits of moss torn from the eaves
Now that they've finished playing games
They'll dance and sing round brilliant flames
Underneath a shining crescent moon
Til' dawn they'll sway, and drink, and croon
And when the sun is overhead
It will finally be time for bed
Magic flows throughout the night
When dainty fairies are filled with delight
Wind brushes my skin
I felt you that way,
Soft and fleeting
A gentle reminder
That I wasn't alone

Wind blows harder
Harsh and cold
******* the air
Straight from my lungs
As you once did

Wind is now gone
Sweeping through the trees
Somewhere around me
Always there,
But never tangling my hair

— The End —