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g h o s t
she lives at the bottom of a dark dark wood
in a dark dark house that has windows like monster eyes
and a mouth shaped like a front door
the road winds unused, an old farm track
a quarter mile from her house. boared up
since she died, back in 1985.
when i was 15 some older boys broke into the house
with an oiuja board and some whiskey
they made it spell out the name of this girl
and then all the candles blew out
and she screamed
last night i was sleep walking
through the shadows of my mind
i was back at the old house, dreaming that i died
i dreamt i found my mother's corpse
propped up in bed, her mouth full of blood
i am almost 27 years old.
a coffee mug of vodka and orange squash
doesnt ease my mind at all, no better
than this cheap Czech beer.
last night i dreamed of a girl I've never met
she changed the pillow cases on my bed
and when my father hit me, she pulled him away.
my ghost, running through these walls when my
back is turned. I could smash this bottle right into the plasterboard
and feel the glass grind and slice my hand
it works the same for everyone, you just
have to live with yourself
the woods ran behind my house, and to the left
at the end of the lane, at the crossroads
two ways went to tree's, silver birch
mostly. its not that hard to find a little
hollow, to back up against out of the wind
its not that hard to find a bottle of something
to back up and keep against the wind.
unseen whispers in the night remind me
of an older ghost, an abandoned house
maybe one day i'll go prise off the wooden shield
and bring my own ouija board, if you think
you can scare me, big deal. i'm already afraid
i feel it in my chest, big deal, big deal.
between here and there
is only a couple of miles
i could walk it now, although it may be dark
by the time i get there. my childhood still haunts
the man i have become, i dont doubt
i'll change one day, or die
before i do.
the emptiness in this space between me
and the bedroom door is intolerable
but it doesnt burn, it freezes
and im cold, and im sick
sick of feeling cold
__________________
"Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate,
for all things are plain in the sight of Heaven. For nothing
hidden will not become manifest, and nothing covered will remain
without being uncovered."
The Gospel of Thomas
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