Verse: Ghosts

(NB: I don't generally believe in putting poems to test groups, but this one demanded scrutiny. So two sets of eyes and two revisions later, a ghost was born. And yet, on the way to that, a small piece was surgically removed, like an appendix. I present that piece first, even though it may haunt the real poem:)

Ghosts - I

You who would harbour ghosts
let there be no doubt
their numbers are growing and
they are slowly gaining clout
do not listen to the nonsense
they are prone to spout
You who are now plagued with ghosts
you must cast them out.

Ghosts - II

It was not long
ago you asked me
how a ghost is born

I said it's bred
in ignorance
and all the things
we mourn

it grows in magic
and in loss
shelters the things
we've torn

what more can I
tell you about
how a ghost is born

You once asked
if these were my ghosts
and I told you no

I used to live
with them a while
in an abandoned studio

I spent many late nights
with them
creating picture shows

Much like anybody else
ghosts need some place
to go

You asked what these
ghosts want from us
they envy our skin

They want to reconnect
with all the things
they might have been

And when I'm not
feeling holy
I bid them enter in

As familiar as
a melody as constant
as a twin

But now these ghosts
cling to us
as if we were their lovers

They rummage in
our dresser drawers
and hide under our covers

They're in our mouths
and in our hearts
how oppressively they hover

But despite our close
proximity we do not
recognize each other.