My Ghost ©

Is my ghost staring at me?

Screaming in silence

what my deft heart has not been yet allowed to hear?

Am I just witnessing it howl?

It’s knees are bending, it all comes down;

it’s air is gone, but it’s eyes still shine.

Nuances of restoration,

fixated with my volatile life,

are stitching an endless path

where thorns of salt

scrape the silence

and agony becomes a cry.

Is it my ghost staring at me?

Awaiting for me to find

what it has been discovered in my poignant mind?

Is it staring at me?

Is it a ghost or Is it just me

screaming in silence

because my heart allows me to feel?


By Carolina Gonzalez (Carolina Portilla Garcés)

February 26th, 2015cropped-carolinaweb20151.jpg

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