I’m afraid of ghosts...but not the kind you’re thinking of.
I’m afraid of the kind that haunts you.

The kind you left in past mistakes.
Mistakes that find reincarnation in my words.

I tread lightly or even back track when you hint that my words echo a past ghost I know nothing of.
I fear being part of your cemetery, where I’ve seen you tend the graves with regret and remorse.
I fear being one of your ghosts.

How do I change my words so they stop reminding you of someone else’s mouth?
Maybe we should make up a new language together because the language of love has hurt you.
It’s hurt you so many times that you’re afraid to speak it to me.  I only hear whispers of it, late at night after the sips take away the transparent ghosts and leave me with transparent you, I hold my breath, hoping the ghosts cannot hear us.

Let me be your exorcist.  Trust me with my words and feel them as if you’ve never heard them before.  Lean into me because, unlike these ghosts….

I am real
I am now and
I am steady.  

Amanda Powell
June 30th 2017