my ghost and I

by Meg Brodeur '24 on February 16, 2023
Portfolio Co-Editor

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After lavender and magenta dissolve into twilight,

twilight melts into darkness

and my ghost comes to visit me

fleeing her dwelling place

she drips out of the glass picture frame,

with pale skin and shaky hands

she seeps underneath my chilled skin

curling her toes into the muscle and tissue:

a silent plea—

         please let me stay.

she’s the essence of a past self

the version of me that I yearn to forget,

numb to vibrant colors and throaty laughter

numb to tenderness and warm embraces

and an estranged friend of hope and trust

with her nature back inside me

I feel the urge to leave my comfortable bed,

to sit on the clammy tiles of my childhood bathroom

I’ve found it’s the best place to be

with bloodshot eyes and tear-soaked cheeks, that is

but instead, I sink further into my mattress

and remind her once again about the dangers of codependency

how long till she learns to listen-

how long till I learn to listen?

“you’re ok now, darling” I tell her,

using a voice, I know she’s never heard before,

it is gentle and forgiving

entirely devoid of judgment

I gently push her away from my fast-beating heart—

afraid she’ll root herself within my veins

leaving me unable to decipher her body from mine.