I never believed in ghosts or devils

until the day you left me

and I watched seconds pass by with the whisper of your lips

still bruising mine.

Your grasping fingertips shadowing my every smile,

quick enough to tuck it away in the cup of your hand.

My voice lost in between the crevices of your tightened fists.

I never believed in ghosts or devils

until I stared at the shadowing bruises you left

before I decided it was enough to say goodbye.

But the scars remain a hush your spirit clings to when

I wish to simply dream at night

but paralyzing images plague my mind

diving into the skin under my eyes.

And when they ask why I look so tired,

I wish I could answer that your every imprint still seethed into

my nightmares

sewing a new seam of fear I have yet

to undo.