fight for your happiness

haunting

Half a person, I am only this stunted growth, a cut limb, fallings and debris of the wrecked and castaway whole. Nothing to pick through through these ruins, I am a lost spirit in this rotted and sinking walls, lonely and calling out for a stolen heart, gold teeth, an arm and a leg. I am a voice with no body calling through an empty hall, a still and deserted valley. Calling a name that no longer belongs to anyone. I am this brittle shell, this crumbling skeletal fragments turned to powder in the kindly doctor’s hands, glass and grit and sand. No pulse here, no life to call back to this world.  I am that voice by your ear, so faint and far away. I am the bones beneath your feet, sleeping soundly in the dirt.