In the ghost that was me
there were more than a me.
There were parts that are missing
and parts that were found.
Down silent hallways in silent rooms
surrounded by stormy voices.
Locked in closets, inside locked trunks
tied down to floor ties and splintered wood,
in splintered minds and splintered souls,
in splintered hearts...
...torn between the horror experienced
in the life lived outside those closets,
outside those rooms, outside those halls
in the walls in pain’s sight of day.
It was my life, a shadowed life,
yet, it was my life Mr. Jung.
A child trapped in an eclipse
that lasted fifty-five years,
until I was handed the keys,
potions, wand and incantations.