the ghosts swirl
around her every
movement
a host
of hellish intent
forming an invisible
yet
impenetrable
bank of fog
filling the room
with the metallic scent
of anxious panic

she is never alone
not entirely
no matter where
she seeks
a singular moment
of reprieve
from the constant
babble of voices
whispering of every single
mistake made
on the high road
of good intentions

the ever silent
cemetery girl
a human haunted house
of brittle crystalline bones
of spun sugar
formed carefully
into this spectacle
of insecurities
painted in shades
of sorrow
a vibrant photo-negative
of hope’s black hole