I flinch at the flavor
of strawberry apple sauce
I disassociate in the driveway
of my childhood home
the stench of smoke lingers
the strength of gripping fingers
the attitude of an amorous human
and the affection is never reciprocated
Yet I participated
Contemplated
And decided
That we shared a lovely dinner
Refusing to believe
That I react to this aftermath
Because in reality
I was eaten alive
-Party Ghost
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Poetry Party Ghost
PoetryNeed a break from the noise? The ultimate survival guide to being socially awkward is here. Read into the mind of the poetry party ghost, a fellow playing the fly-on-the-wall to an assortment of situations in the world. Hear them ramble about all yo...
