Ghosts

My home is filled with ghosts

it is a haunted house.

Like those eerie places

where holocausts have occurred

covered in a thick layer of genocidal misery

from violent acts that have torn souls 

away from this world.

The spirits and bad energy linger in the air

making me uneasy

giving me goosebumps

and the strange sensation

someone is trying to whisper something to me

but I cannot make out the words.

Memories flash in my mind as I am where my childhood was played out.

Each step brings me back to the memories and people who will never return.

For one moment and I am a child.

I wish I had been kinder, taken more time to appreciate them.

I turn to look for those beautiful souls, and they are gone 

like that sinking feeling when a once vibrant house is now still

the soul is abscent.

I'm always more and more alone as family and friends disappear.

One moment they are here, I can touch them, I feel them,

talk to them, bask in their company, have their advice

and support.

Their laughter and tears are my music.

Then there is silence, and the memories haunt me reminding me they are gone,

my home is filled with ghosts.

About grief

I know a little bit about grief.

It's the moment you realise

you cannot go back on your own steps

you can't make it better

or say I love you again

 see someone's face every day,

hear their laugh, trace the outline of their smile,

hold their hand or give them a hug.

When you learn what it feels like to run out of time.

No more silent pauses in conversations

seeing them across the table,

passing the salad bowl at dinner.

All of those moments you take for granted

stop in your mind,

they are gathered up in memories

and the grieving begins.

I've learnt grief isn't bad,

it's all we have, really,

for our tears are our love

which used to go out

towards those we love.

After they are gone it has nowhere to go,

so our unexpressed love

becomes our grief.

And as our passion is as undying,

as our mourning.

This will never leave

not until our dying days.

It may seem ironic

but I hope we never

stop grieving

because it keeps our

dearly departed near us.

Life doesn't stop

when someone dies,

it merely shifts

and changes into another

gear and somehow

we live with it.

Delicate Impossibilities

I've never been able to let go of my delicate impossibilities

the airheaded dreamer holds onto what if  moments

what would have happened along another path

with different people by my side

or even by myself.

I delight myself in remembering the gentle caresses

standing too close or too long with someone

regretting not leaning over and kissing

or not following someone to the train station

losing touch, moving on while holding on to a first love

never forgetting shared intimacies and always desiring more.

There is one fleeting moment which constantly

haunts me, a man I loved when he was but a boy

I worry perhaps he was my soul mate

he was a reflection of myself, and I have always loved him

I still have his perfume, I smell the odour of our youth

my innocence.

I wish him all my love

and still, I dream of him.

Did he see himself in me and flee

Perhaps he believed I forgot him

I'm a good actress

I can never forget that piece of me

I found myself with him

and I want to let him know

I will always remember you,

soul mate and love

even if you make yourself invisible

the delicate impossibilities will remain.

The Bearded Lady

The bearded lady shaves off her beard

what a strange sensation

her skin tingles

the upper lip so smooth

she is almost cold

as erotic as a Brazilian wax

feeling naked she strangely misses

her fuzzy covering.

As strangers look at her

she realises no one knows

about her beard

only the subtle lines

of her pale face, dimpled chin

and a strong jawline.

Beneath her mask she is beautiful

but she never acknowledges it

or feels her power

she is always hiding, meekly behind

her overwhelming insecurities

she had left it too late

to be free from her plumage

past her prime, she rubs her

smooth cheeks and wonders who

she might have seduced

in her youth

if she had the courage

to shave before

then she suddenly desires her beard.