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