Ghost

for the mirror
of the ghost I used to love
I keep my hands warm at night
I'm ready to make long hours
seem short
together we can stop time
and chew
on this moment

there is no age of reason
we are standing tall
on the shoulders of insanity
i fell off twice
my hands are bruised and bleeding

I'm a screaming little girl
with a feeble voice and a taunting mind
lost without her home
whose hands touch her hair
like the wind in the willows

we rush through the sky
dragging our guilt behind us
escaping the black eyes
of the ghost I used to love
coming in the night

haunting my dreams
he takes the stars
and places them around my bed
making me shine
reminding me
that I am his forever
and not his mirror's
who only asks for now
to warm my hands

I climb out of my bed
I step over the stars
I reach for the hand of the mirror
I reach for my own private hell
I'm walking down a dead end road
that leads to the cliff top
where
I
will
fall
into the arms of destruction
and
the black eyed ghost