You have such presence... it intimidates me.
I wonder if you know.

If you know how i don't always talk much, but with you, i barely do.
If you know how i'm a quiet person, but with you, i barely move.
This thought has been haunting me since the night we met.
One day, when i'm done feeling intimidated by you, i'll ask you.

Do I haunt you

Like you haunt me

Do you see me

In the corners of your eyes

Are you pulling truth

From lies

Planted in your mind

Over the years

Did you find words

In my tears

Is my name laced

With your fears

Do you see

My face in others

Do you wish "friends"

Was lovers?

Today is a rough day
I'm feeling all alone
There's some I could reach out to
But none will help me through it all

Nightmares and flashback are haunting me today
Visions of fear, helplessness and pain
Happy thoughts of mine just float away
Held back tears flow down like rain

I know those remembered time are over
Though I still feel vulnerable
No ones coming to throw me over their shoulder
But who's next to show me hell?

When I met you, I prayed I wouldn't fall in love.
I'm not really religious but if I believe in a god then he must have made you special,
Someone just for me that challenges the strict rules I am made of.
A human with life and kindness in their heart that is half full.
Maybe I see you better than you are or better than you think,
But I can't really help the thought that I might be the pen and you my ink.
My words may haunt me like the spirits I drank to relax.
You exorcised the ghosts from my chest.
You caressed my body of abandoned railroad tracks.
For once I can feel a home in the spaces where we rest
While this dance plays out in my mind.
I remember that people are usually terrified of what they don't understand
So, it that's true then I must be terrified of you.
As the dark attic of my mind flickers with shadows prancing along,
I can only sit and wonder what kind of life you've gone through.
My love can't waver from you despite the mystery I see
Because I know the gods must have made you for me.

i am haunted.
haunted by the ghost of the woman i was too afraid to become.
and i’m the one who killed her.

i smothered her.
left her gasping and screaming for air underneath the same white sheets that i rest upon every night.
you’ll see no blood.
you’ll see no evidence of a struggle.
her body rots between the cracks in my ribcage.
this is where i hold her prisoner.

there was no funeral.
no “goodbye”.
just my silent mourning.
i wear black in the bags under my eyes.
this haunting is personal.

you see, my hands are her hands
and maybe this is why everyone i touch
remains unmoved.
maybe this is why everything i write
becomes an elegy.

to her: i’m sorry. but you never had a chance.
to her: i’m sorry for letting you rot before you ever had the chance to bloom.
here lies she whose face haunts me everywhere i turn.

My Wix profile or Linked in might read 'This user has stopped participating in life.'  
It's true.
I have stopped liking anything anymore.
Some of u might call me boring.
I have stopped going places.
Some of you might call me a recluse.
I have stopped talking to new people.
Some of you might call me a snob.
Looks like there's only one thing I can do without others thinking differently
...to lie down in a field of roses, hands crossed over my chest and eyes closed in eternal rest.
I guess nobody can say anything anymore now but
...RIP
It's funny how you have to be dead to be appreciated.

Here's a poem you can call your own.
Let it wrap itself around your neck till you turn cold.
A toast to the paragraphs of your emotional distress.
These words will stitch your insecurities into a seductive dress.

Here’s a poem you can call your own.
A haunting of memories for when you’re alone.
A guide
for the ghosts who don’t have a home.
Lost and lonely
wishing they had a tombstone.

The wind that glides throught the bark of winter trees
Is as cold as the coldest alps
Solidifies me within the cave of time
Your voice dying in memories