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the ghosts that linger
by Ava Blu
there are cigarette butts on the roof
they are mixed in with the leaves and i know you smoked in the living room
i know you sat on the roof, opened the window and blew smoke into my face
i know you crept in the bushes and urinated
i know you vomited on my blanket
i know my love was a needle in a haystack
i know i didn’t let you in
there was a break in the wind
there was a flash right before your fist hit the side of my head
and i know i destroyed something you love
and i know you didn’t walk away,
your hands kept punching
and i kicked and i screamed and i started to
just give up
you threw a note in my face containing 594 reasons why you love me,
reasons why you were about to jump off
reasons why we keep lying
we’re sinking through the floor
we are not going to fall into the sheets
we are painting the walls with our tears
and we are whispering too much inside ourselves
and i wish your hands hadn’t caused these bruises
and i wish we didn’t have any more ghosts.
03/16/2010 Posted on 03/17/2010
Copyright © 2026 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/17/10 at 01:55 AM There is more going on here than just about anyone else could pack into the same number of lines. There's a voice that moves from near-silence to a roar that's probably tearing down the windows for blocks around. There's sadness, loss, love, dignity and the flip side of dignity, resolve, anger, disbelief. I'm probably missing a few, but everything is here, and it's all some of your most painful writing to date. The person this is about should have their heart shaken to pieces by that last stanza, to say nothing of the rest of us. |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 03/17/10 at 05:02 AM the emptional punch this poem packs is incredible, the last two lines really drill it home, but through out, it screams out. Very sad, angry, desperate and afraid of the lonliness strike me |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/17/10 at 04:55 PM I have to agree with Shannon- a very emotional write. A very incedible story; sad,and scary. We all are haunted. The ghosts are the things that make us who we are. A POWERFUL write. |
| Posted by Felicia Aguilar on 03/17/10 at 11:02 PM This is so raw and beautiful in the way that it aches. "i know my love was a needle in a haystack" Love that line! |
| Posted by Julie Adams on 03/19/10 at 03:58 AM there is a really strong and haunting undercurrent in the flow of ideas in this piece, and aptly so for the content...ur imagery and ideas are so bare, so naked and open it enthralls the reader...the repetition works to hypnotize the reader within the world of the subject, and in turn, haunts the reader with the "reality" encased within this poem...ur work is stellar, your idea moving, your talent undeniable, your courage to address such painful ideas--momentous...kudos star, u always shine, even amidst such darkness...peace n poems to u, jewels xoxox |
| Posted by Shossana Dreyfus on 03/21/10 at 04:30 AM Holy crap - adding to favourites. |
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