Your ghost popped in unexpectedly and
stayed way too long.
I was tired of him and sat
Thinking up excuses, fake appointments,
deadlines. I began to
tidy the room around him.
He didn’t seem to notice and kept
stirring up old memories,
breathing in the aromas, seeing
how they’ve aged. I tried not
to inhale, I don’t need those memories.
There is nothing about you I want anymore,
not your ghost and
especially not his promises,
so easily made, so easily discarded,
like little scars they cover me,
a fine mesh over my soul.
by Cher Bibler