Spirits

I’m imagining

Our life stuck in the middle

Never going home

I’m seeing the house

Where our son and his children

Play without the fear

The fear has us tight

A pale hand touching her head

A chill going through

Remember her breath

Gasping out as she shivers

Clouding in the dawn

How cold she feels now

The daughter beneath the floor

Plucking out the wind

Do you miss her still?

You are still - oh, so still

The thought keeps me still

She’s reaching for you

In my dream of fearsome ghosts

Her nails scratching skin

The fear holds me down

I cannot sleep anymore

When I think of her

She grips my thin throat

As I watch the children run

Wishing to warn them

Her presence stays there

Reaching up through the floorboards

To grab small ankles

Her lips press against

Dead skin against the living

The children are hers

You don’t say a word

Frozen in your insane world

Just stare as I grieve

Soon the children die

And our son grieves their passing

Choking on sorrow

Now I have lived it

Our life stuck in the middle

Never going home.