i never get a chance
to distill my visitors,
no matter how unwanted.
i’ve spent my years wondering
why me? ive
slowly become accustomed to
being haunted around every turn.
i know of my
help and of his
feelings but why are the rest undistilled?
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This entry was posted on August 14, 2009 at 10:56 pm and is filed under Uncategorized with tags dead, ghosts, help, horror, poetry, sprits. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed
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