We lived,
we breathed our childhood
like runaway trains,
hid our pains in frivolous antics,
created fantastic fantasy worlds.

Some of us were kings
others queens,
still others princes & princesses.
And we did not know excess,
pushing the limits of our existence,
insisting we were real
humans with real feelings,
only trampled on
by those we loved,
the ones we trusted the most.

And now
writing,
we are haunted by those ghosts
who ****** us.