Photo by Velizar Ivanov on Unsplash

Moody

Chains of memories cling to my legs

Phantom weight only I can see,

Mind’s eye clouded in mist,

All that comes ghosting away,

Forlorn, I cannot tell the shape,

This malady, this chafing bond

I drift, these chains cannot hold me

They merely wrap me…

dissonance.

The day

I have a ghost. I cannot see him, but I can feel him. His weight drags me down. Sometimes, he is but a slight touch, chill, but reminding me…

All is not right.

Other times, when the past comes to haunt, the present is too agonizing and the future seemingly lost, he hugs me. Wrapped in this chill, I can do nothing but revel in the pain.

I merely wait.

My comfort, my prisoner, my ghost. His name,

Moody.

At times, I crawl away from people to be with him. He is jealous of my time. When he stirs, even if I wish to be with people I cannot.

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