…by many ghosts

I am haunted by many ghosts
far from deceased, far from gone, they wander free
ever shifting in the shadows, recoiling from the light
oblivious to my consciousness, of their existence
they linger at the edges, at the boundaries between moments
in that blurry space where night and day blend
submerging themselves in the murky depths
that my mind might struggle to find
their echoes, their unfinished stories, cannot be silenced
they whisper into the void
circling the slightest sliver of light
searching not for an exit, but an entrance
surreptitiously slipping through the cracks
into once familiar passages
down streets long forsaken long abandoned
by my heart and my soul
these ghosts that I try to outrun
that I pretend not to hear when they call your name
that watch me until my heart once more shines a light
revealing their many eyes awaiting my gaze
daring me to see them, daring me to recognise 
the broken parts of me that I abandoned
in an effort to save myself
their ghostly visages, expressionless
yet still I feel the judgement, the pleading
and I wait and they wait and we are all silent
and still in the moment, the night holds its breath
the windows too have eyes, and they are peering at me
awaiting my next breath, for I have been holding it for far too long
everything frozen, my metaphorical winter
seconds become minutes, midnight is calling
the bell, I hear the bell, long mournful tones
and I breathe, one deep breath after another
as the light fades and the cloak of darkness falls softly upon me
my ghosts are familiar with this dance
they know that this time they were seen
and again my sacrifice, my unconditional surrender
was not theirs to claim
but never discouraged, they return to the depths
and I know in my heart, that I will see them again
© Ann Bagnall