Haunted
Lurking in the dark unknown places,
The places that are little considered or rarely seen.
Or perhaps willfully forgotten for want of the seeming bliss we might lead in the wake of their disappearance.
All too hurried we are to be done with them,
a sweet little delusion, a willful suspension of disbelief.
What seems to be is so very often not what is,
to play upon the desire to move on, to forget,
to be as others seem to be.
The mind plays tricks.
Or perhaps it is not a trick.
Perhaps it is as real as it can be. Tricks or no, we act in a world that does not hold for our permission.
And real it is.
The ghost is lying in wait,
haunting your shadow.
So very very patient it is.
So willful even.
As willful it seems as the will to deny that it was ever there to begin with.
But it has always been there.
To know the difference between the will to forget and the necessity to.
How fortunate some are that their forgetfulness lands them where others wish they could be at their sharpest.
And how sharp one must be just to keep up, when you are haunted by so many ghosts.
