Giving Up The Ghost

From my series, Whispers To My Shadows.

You ever wish

That you could just rewind?

Go back in time,

And just turn out fine?

Well, I do,

I know that the chances are slim,

That we may not live it again,

But at least, we can imagine.

But when we aren't imagining,

We can't let it flash past again.

We’ve got to use our noses,

And smell the roses,

Take time to live it up.

And win it up,

And while you're at it, hell!

Even sin it up!

So here I am

Wishing and dreaming,

I could live it again.

As I lay here in my bed,

With the same old story in my head.

What could have been?

What would have been?

Or even what should have been?

A ghost,

A shadow,

A memory.

Not quite there,

Not quite clear,

Not quite worth the time.

So for my sake and yours

I think I’ll be finally giving up the ghost,

Because my body was nothing but another host,

I don’t wanna forget the past,

But I’d like to leave it behind.

Moving past old hauntings

How can one embrace the future if one is still yearning for the past?

Alone, I walk past my old haunts, the bittersweet entangles. I can no longer recognize them with my sore and weary eyes. Still, I behold the visage of those I’ve chosen to abandon as I moan and ache in silence. They try to reach but I recede. My hands ascend over my head searching for something larger to keep me; the mundane, the mould away. My search persists. The haunts, all vacant; old reveries of memories held dearly no more; they persist, and like nails, they pierce through the skull like hellfire to the soul.

I behold it now, with no control and no vision, just subtle haunting sensation and scourge after scourge, I endure. More and more unsure of whether I’ve reached ashore, or still treading as before.

Nails are sinking in my head.

[From my series, Whispers To My Shadows]