Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mysidian Bard Feb 2017
As I walk the streets of this old town
footsteps of the past are retraced;
though I look upon it with brand new eyes
every place still has your face.

The wind will always carry your voice,
words echoing on the breeze,
like whispers in the gathering dark
between the cemetery trees.

Fragmented memories of a tortured past
are just riddles without clues.
Haunted are these same old streets
by the apparitions of you.
the only way i know how to touch the sky
is through the ribs of the dead.
Asamoah Tony Jan 2017
He ever knew what it felt like to be haunted,*
*Until she looked at him like no one else
sura Jan 2017
Your shoes,
I saw them lying neatly
Side by side upon the bridge.
Laces untied; socks in a crumpled bundle inside
As if you had just stepped out of them,
As if you had just left them on somebody else's doorstep.

Gingerly, I picked them up.
In the air I let my questions hang.
At what point in your life
Did these blood-red sneakers turn almost white?
Since when did its crisp signature logo
Turn into an unreadable smudge?

Worn out and faded,
Tattered and almost unrecognizable,
I barely knew the thing I was holding in my hands…

Perhaps you were too busy running
To even notice its deteriorating condition?
Never mind the cracks on the surface,
The thinning soles already caked in mud,
As long as they take you away from the darkness
Which seems to follow you everywhere.

For the last time, these shoes have served you.
Brought you in this unlikely place, on this very bridge.
Where you left them lying neatly side by side
As you took the way out, barefoot.

Hoping someone would step into them,
Feel for answers with their own toes.
And finally understand that
There were no haunting shadows in your pursuit

Because all this time

The darkness has always been inside you.
Nikolai Pabst Jan 2017
The year is slowly coming to an end
All i can think of is how that night ended
A month once the clock ticks twelve
Will these feelings be ever reciprocated
Or it will forever be one sided
I am haunted by the way you smiled at me
Nicole Normile Dec 2016
did you get what you wanted?
did you bring back the dead?
I am still haunted
by the things that you said

was it so great to have her in your bed?
and did it match up to the thoughts in your head?

you ****** me
you hurt me
you struck me
and burnt me

you got what you wanted
and I am still haunted
by you being split-hearted
and by feeling discarded

for you couldn’t let go
of someone behind you
and when she did find you
you let me know
that you being over her was all a show
Joshua Scott Dec 2016
I saw a ghost in my room
As the sun rose
He drifted near as I sat up in bed
I could see him in the mirror
Mocking me
Whispering lies
Or truths I refused to hear
I told him he died long ago
between forgotten memories
And pointless feelings
And he said "No, I'm just sleeping. For a while longer still."
And he faded away
Into the morning air
Zara rain Dec 2016
It doesn't matter
how many infatuated knights
I've brought to my table,
The hollow whisper of you
still echoes in my mind.
And the cold comfort
of sleeping with substitutes
only leaves the heart bereft.
Our flower bed tumbled
with naked leaves entwined
with Forget-me-not’s
and breathless kisses,
was never meant to turn
into a ****** killing field.
And yet it did.

There's a fear in me I can't deny.
That the memory of us
madly tearing each others hearts out,
while ripping each others clothes off
will eventually start to dissolve
like an unholy ghost in the wind.
Denial and terror at the same time.
Because what would become of me,
if my fractured soul would let
the hollow whisper to return?

Diary confessions
dixie krause Dec 2016
you stay in my dreams, day and night.
you keep me awake during ungodly hours
when, supposedly, i am sleeping.
you walk along in my lucid dreams,
and i feel more awake than ever.
you leave traces behind,
and when i see you again as a non abstract being,
you are oblivious.
i am kept haunted by your untouchable presence,
and it is slowly bringing my mind to death.
Last night’s clothes
Still smell like the ghost of you,
Burnt amber and a hint of allspice,
Just enough to leave me
Haunted.
You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com
Next page