Late at night is when they come...ghosts at 3 am to haunt me...to remind me...of things I've lost or never found in the first place...of stolen kisses and whispered secrets...of secret tortures both self induced and by the hands of others...the witching hour is like a rumbling in the pit of my stomach and it feels like hunger but it hurts like love....it hurts so much like love.....
Haunted.....haunted.....by the past...by the future.....surrounded by dust and careless fragments of the other peoples lives......i sit and wonder....and i think too much and i drink too much and I'm silent.....and sometimes talk to ghosts...
XOXO
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