A whispering ghost is all that lingers of you

and those words form on my lips even now

to haunt the specter of you that remains

but you aren't listening still

and I feel like a demon

desecrating the remains of a sacred grave

lost to the binding threads of sanity

in a place where love is curse

as unwelcome as mercy.

Those times carried with them a chaos

a clashing disharmony that made perfection real.

Now it is calm

tranquil

and like an eager child

I find that I am not content with it at all.

Misery beckons to me from the shadows

and I crawl into your arms in my dreams

as I beg you to save me from desire.

Chasity Hutto