It’s happening all around me
Left and right
Dates and clients
Poof! Into thin air
Groovin’ and smilin’
In the pocket
Supposed reflection in their orbs
And then, gone
Gone
Gone
.
Perhaps, it’s occurred
Over and over again
Without such conscious notice
But lately
It feels like all’s I gots’
Is ghosts
.
Perhaps, and most likely
A teaching
This repeated, multi-faced patterning
Trying to get me to see
Trying to get me to heal
The unattended ghosts
Of the past
.
Like that first one
I’m sure his eyes filled my babe core
His gaze, for a few months
Completing me
And then
Poof!
Gone.
No explanations
Silence all around it
Except the rumblings a young mind
And hollowed center
Can make
.
Ghosties
.
And then that man
Bustin’ onto my scene like a dream
Wolf in hand, care in heart
Blowing my mind with his Love
And shit, not long after
Bullet-penetrated aortas
Leaving me wondering
Leaving me wondering
Oh
The rumblings a young mind
And hollowed center
Can make
.
Ghosties
The pattern, oft repeated
But not until recently
Did I see
How I
Ghost me
.
How I leave my babies like he did
Thrilled with creation
Gazing at the outcome
But running
Running
As fast as I can
From the inadequacy I feel
In bringing them babies to life
.
The fear, the overwhelm, the way they might tie me down
The terror that I might destroy them
The shame that I, clueless, feel unworthy to stay
Focused
And by their side
.
Granted, my babies take up
Memoir form
Bohemian caravan festival vending form
Self-owned business form
Poetry Anthology form
Musical album form
Grimoire form
….
But nevertheless
They’re babies
Creations once filling me with inspiration
Now left in some void floating
Hollow
Wondering where I’ve gone
.
Such potential
They hoped for so much
To be supported
To be encouraged
To shine
Through the light and darkness
We’d face together on the path
They look at me, from a distance
Begging
Sorrow in their supposedly inanimate heart
Wondering what they did
And where I’ve gone
Do they feel
The buried rage
I’ve carried for so long?
.
Ghosties
Damn
I see it so clearly now
I leave my babies just like he did
Just like they do
I ghost
Me
.
All these parts of me reflecting
Over and over until I see it right
Now that the mirror is clear
Now that I face the terror in me
Now that I feel, perhaps, what he felt
Now that I look at those babies, yearning
What’s left to do?
Keep ramblin’ on, chasing shineys?
I suppose this old blood could carry on down that road
But somehow
Although I’m hella respectful of the ghosts among the living
I think I’ll turn back
And face the panic of meeting their need
Ghosties
My ghosties
Letting Go 