Ghosts

I see ghosts

Words I did not share

Words I did not write

Words I did not tell

How they would describe my pain in such detail

It would often frighten those who have sworn to protect me

Especially from myself to the point of inciting a fear in me

With no rhyme or reasoning to either convince or interpret my fears

The ghosts they come as dreams, nightmares really

Of a world that might have been or that already was

Making me wish my mind would just let them go but it cannot

They are there to protect and remind me of my past in an attempt to keep me safe from myself for I am bound to repeat my mistakes both the good and the bad

Some mistakes were happy one’s that led me to someone I loved or loved me

Some mistakes were sad one’s that led me to hurt someone I loved or loved me

Some mistakes were a ruination of my world despite my trying hard to stop them from doing so

These words may seem like ramblings of a deranged mind to some

Because you cannot see the ghosts, I see

The ghosts of those who have gone before me

The ghosts of the words I should have said

The ghosts of the words I should have taken back

The ghosts of the words I could never stop from coming from my rage

The ghosts of the words that made someone presume I was capable of love

That I could give it freely without the ghosts that were already there

That I could open the door and let my walls down without the ghosts of my past and my future reminding me of my pain, my sorrow

That I could forgive those who only wanted to help, to protect, to ensure I was loved and safe

That I was capable of taking it all in stride and letting go of my ghosts freely

Instead, I am held hostage off and on depending on my moods by the ghosts

The one’s I never really knew, the one’s that I loved till their deaths took them from me

The one’s that wanted to love me but I felt empty, hollow, nothing but ash

As if my soul was burnt out, empty vessel that could not receive or give love

As if my soul was the one thing, the ghosts could take from me without me feeling a thing

They were wrong; I felt it in its entirety, each stone a reminder of how much I have hated myself for being born

For being a constant reminder to those who I tried to love, of what they have lost

For being a constant reminder to myself of what I must be to them of the pain of their loss

To have them do disgusted at my presence inside, subconsciously they deemed me garbage free to dispose of emotionally

To discard me so vehemently I was left with only the ghosts to protect me only they couldn’t stop my pain from scarring my psyche, my spirit, my soul

It has left me so empty from their pain I wish to take on others’ pain, discomfort, and even deaths as if they were mine to take

Giving nothing in return but my sympathy, my hollow empathy, my narcisstic need to remove their pains in order to feel something besides my ghosts, my hollow ashen being floating above me watching me wait to die, to find my peace

I have buried myself into scripture at times thinking I have found my answer

As if, God needed me to be a prophet out of my pain (Lamentations 3:1-9)

I only quote what I believe to be relevant to me as a hypocrite destined to die in vain

I cry out as the ghosts tell me God doesn’t wish to protect me from myself

The pain is disguised as self-hatred with little to no protection from exterior tormentors aiding in disgust and myself loathing

I am weakened by my own mistakes, my resolve disillusioned by my lies, my ghosts, and my shadows in the closet

My hollow empty response to the world around me

My hollow response to the ghosts who tried to warn me

My hollow actions to the people around me destined to be ghosts

I cannot make the words of my ghosts stop ringing in my head

The empty warnings, heard so often I drown them out as if I hear nothing

Yet they scream out, the ghosts call my name as they die with me each night

I awaken to feel yet another day older, emptier, and wandering through life wondering when it will finally end my pain, my ghosts’ pain

With no answers, no responses and no easing the pains

No one could understand if they have not felt the way I have

How emotionally draining being around others in pain affects me

Inside my body turns itself inside out in response to their pains, their ghosts

Being near them can drain my strength weaken my resolve

Drive me to beg for relief that is always temporary and empty in its aid

The venom is applied, I sleep, but still the ghosts are there if only for a few hours in my dreams, there my ghosts are crying out my name begging me for relief