The Ghost of Me

September 29, 2010
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Feel the chills creep up your neck,
as I softly breath behind you.
I whisper in your ear—
but my words aren’t important;
they dance around your head and glisten,
like stars on a summer day.
Not once does the paranoia sweep you off your feet—
not even as it wraps around your body, softly caressing you.
and as your blood boils and freezes over,
still, nothing—
but as I slowly fade into the darkness,
reality takes my place,
it tells you everything I wasn’t able to,
and as decades pass, you turn around to whisper back—
I am gone

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