More and more days go by While things continue to go Awry Ailing and ailing from the ghosts Peering over my shoulder, I see them behind me in the mirror. They come to plague my thoughts As they do a little waltz And the days that I choose to not Turn away, I dance with the Ghosts within my head Wailing, and wailing, Even so as I lay in bed. Every time I turn around, I see those ghosts coming back to Tie me down.
✎ 𝐬.𝐩.
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