Ghosts

The autumn wind carries all of the ghosts
They catch on me and hide under his sheets
They make their nests in my clothing seams
Possessing my bones and my being

We waited til the morning where the sun did rise
But the moon still lingered in his weary eyes
Ghosts fill my head with such rotten things
And with the loneliness that the cold air brings

The room was dim so I doubt that he could see
My cold, shaking hands and my reddened cheeks
A part of me wished to crawl under his sheets
But I sincerely doubted that we would sleep

So we waited til the morning where the sun did rise
But the moon still lingered in his weary eyes
Betraying a good heart to satisfy mine
But he’s a ghost I never thought I’d find