old ghost

I do not like hearing from you. After the initial surprise wears off, it messes with my head and my concentration.

"I'll wait for you"
but for what?

"I miss you"
do you now? which part?

I'm exhausted from the weekend and most of all from thinking about you. Work.
You're the addiction I need to break

hello again

My demon is not a small furry creature that wraps itself around my legs. Nor is it a monster the size of two men. It doesn't whisper evil suggestions in my ears, it doesn't twist me to its will like so many little fragile tendrils. It's nothing that insidious.

It is a shape-shifter, this one.
A certain quality of light
a close friend
a sudden breeze
a memory of insignificant events
a road
a season
a song in my head

It's my siren, singing her deadly song, only I don't know if she's leading me forward or pulling me back. I cover my ears but it pierces flesh and echoes in my head. I turn away but I still feel her inexorable pull.