No matter how much we want ghosts to walk,
they do not.
No matter how much we project them on the walls,
no matter how much we want to feel their weight shift,
no matter how much we want them to speak back in reply,
no matter how much time we spend yelling at God,
no matter how much we keep the details of their visage
fresh behind our eyes,
they are gone.
-
They are gone,
sleeping in their graves, gone on from life.
They have gone on with their lives,
somewhere else,
sleeping.
They have moved on,
out of our safe-keeping.
They have stepped out.
Their footsteps do not echo here.
Their footsteps will not echo here.
They are gone.
-
No matter how much we want ghosts to walk,
they do not.
No matter how much we project them on the walls,
no matter how much we want to feel their weight shift,
no matter how much we want them to speak back in reply,
no matter how much time we spend yelling at God,
no matter how much we keep the details of their visage
fresh behind our eyes,
they are gone.
-
--
About the Creator
Sara Wynn
"No one knows where the edge of the knife is,
and no one knows what intelligent life is."



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