I was never afraid of ghosts
before I kept seeing your face
in every mirror I passed.
The past kept you silent.
Locked you in a casket
and buried you in a pile of
faded photographs and
ink that bled recollections
across blank pieces of paper.
Now you are the thunder
that comes after lightning;
you are the shards of glass
after each mirror b re a k s.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
I was never afraid of ghosts
before I kept seeing your face
in every mirror I passed.
The past kept you silent.
Locked you in a casket
and buried you in a pile of
faded photographs and
ink that bled recollections
across blank pieces of paper.
Now you are the thunder
that comes after lightning;
you are the shards of glass
after each mirror b re a k s.
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