Connor Mcleod

A writter lost in the body of IT

Skeletons on your closet

how many times has it been?
The cold dagger is still there
watching all that was unseen
hearing all the unspoken words

I call you, and you don't reply
I see you but you don't see me
I touch you but you don't react
I have become a memory, a ghost

A ghost who lingers on the impossible
A specter of the unforgivable
A vampire feeding on the unforgettable
Eating myself, eating my future

This is denial, this is to die alive
This is my blood drying out on my veins
The sweet sorrow of the unknown
and the sound of inevitability

The winds move and my flesh is torn
becoming a corpse, a skeleton
a skeleton in your closet
To never see the sun again

Maybe i am just blind,
or maybe there is no light
For your heart is dark
Or i never got to light it up

For it's dead, and it was not me
who killed it.
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