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Gheist

by Vikki Owens

Too long a ghost,
my name written on my hands,
prayers written on
transparant skin.

I wander from room to room,
admist the comers and go-ers.
Never noticed, and so,
I no longer notice whether I am
hither or
thither.

03/23/2005

Posted on 03/24/2005
Copyright © 2024 Vikki Owens

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/24/05 at 05:28 AM

I dig the syncronicity here with my own life, as I have a friend who's stopped taking her meds recently; she's schizophrenic. My friends and I are all quite concerned about her as she's disappeared in a manner of speaking; we're praying not literally. Your poem aptly reflects my current impression of her. Thanks for sharing this.

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