“And I wonder about you.
If there’s a reason you haunt me.”
No matter what I try, my mind lingers to you. In the dead of night, I can hear you whispering through the trees, echoing through the chambers in my heart, as if they’re one and the same. And I wonder about you. If there’s a reason you haunt me. If there’s anything I can do to rid my thoughts of you. But I suppose that’s what my problem is. How can I banish you when I don’t even know your true name?
Is it Love? Pain? Or is it Death? I’m not sure I want to know.
© Sarah Doughty
Either way, I think I’m screwed.
I want you to think about this piece. Reread it. Let it simmer.
Death does not call out like a lost lover.
But someone that is lingering at the edge,
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