Tremors
Heavy eyelids wake to find morning, a jubilant yawn. Marble staircases whisk away my childhood fears of the dark & your lips upon mine give life to the lifeless.Â
A capacity to love, previously unspoken & ashamed. Broke from the lungs of a dead man.
I still see ghosts sometimes.
Held in the ash of broken toy soldiers we wrapped ourselves in the sun & prayed to God that the ever darkening night would soon pass.Â
Ghosts & ghouls of our own creation made friends in the void & found Jesus in the eyes of their enemy
I still see them sometimes. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â & Sometimes they still see me.Â














