Past Ghosts

Spiral staircase like a rolodex in my brain. Leading always to you; striking a goldmine in your gaze. Needles puncture the sickness of this heart; soothing the shaking in my brain, burning softly, harrowingly seeking this crucifixion. As the phantom that haunts me propels it’s grasp onto me, you’re diamond eyes penetrate through like a jackal. I am turned to this appeal, transfixed; confessions buried in your mind a thousand times. Your scent becomes clear; smiles and entry level breathing, faucet liquid bleeding, Bright blue/grey eyes like a blinding pang. Storming through my life-blood, the sweet gestures in your voice, the looming sentiments that I can not destroy. If you really want the stars, god knows I’d scale the night skies for you. In the creeping of the dark. These stars look pretty in eyes through your heart- shaped glasses. I got your smokes in my pocket

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