Ghosts howl in my head, even though I know it's my
imagination, spirits wrapped in mist with hidden faces, fluid here in my alcove,
this space I thought was safe, each day making me quake inside, just when I
assumed I need not fear, these ghosts carrying a deep chill I feel down deep in
my bones, cling to me like moist tissue I can't scrape free of without scraping
away precious flesh, they haunt me in broad daylight, fingers quivering with
each gust of wind, I breathe them in and out like smoke until I choke, coughing
them up like phlegm until my lungs ache, these ghosts howl in my head, echoes
of things I think I thought of, things I've done or not done or won't ever do,
all looking and sounding like her.
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