ghosts aren’t real, you know?
goblins and ghouls and trolls and the boogeyman?
all lies.
a preposterous faith.
though deep down I hoped to be haunted.
ignoring reality, clutching mustard seeds
praying to see a spirit
waiting in shadows; watching in forums,
reading stories; hearing tunes,
and fearlessly fantasizing until
reality became my nightmare
and sleep became my enemy.  
I prowled by moonlight searching for the root of fear
prepared, of course, to fend for myself
a quest for a haunting; a trivial pursuit
was truthfully a journey leading me to
a mirror reflecting pure evil
I am the monster; you are the ghost
that my talons could not hold
I watched you disappear into the walls
of this haunted house
crumbling down around me