Date: 18-01-2016
Ghost
The bloodstains on the carpet
Splattered wine on the walls
The shattered glass she steps on
To face the body on the ground.
Piercing through her skin,
Her blood drips
Invisibly seeping into the thick
Absorbing rug
On which she lay.
Her pale eyes wide
Numb hands shaking
She reaches to touch
The unmoving fragment
Only to feel the air
Surround her
Entangle her in its chill
Awaken the reality that's staring her down
She sees herself.
Face down
Eyes frozen
She lay
As her life-force drains
Pooling around her
Like a blood lake
Of lost memories
and ugly deceptions.
She sees everything
Nothing
And all at once;
She dies again.
YOU ARE READING
twenty sixteen ✓
Poetry/twenty sixteen : a poetry collection/ A poem, a day. Can't be that hard, right? One of my New Year's Resolutions this year is get back into poetry and explore new styles. This is my attempt at doing just that. This collection will be a mixture of d...
