This place reeks of ghosts. I can feel them everywhere. They stick to me like smoke from a fire. I’m haunting myself because I hang onto everything like a promise. And I promise to keep trying to sort things out if you promise to swallow your broken teeth before they dig into me. Words have a way of shattering through you so keep them tucked in the back of your throat for safe keeping. I want to unravel everything I have ever felt and spread it across my palms to feel it’s truth in a different way. I want to hold these things up to the sky and say, “this is it- this is everything”. But, my mind is a maze and there’s no way out. I’m walking in circles until trapped doors find me- begging for ghosts to lead me home, because they too have trouble letting go. If I could build up my expectations and light them on fire for the sake of a funeral, I would cause arson in order to put them to rest. My hands would turn to matches and I’d breath gasoline. Watch my eyes set the whole thing up in flames as embers rain on me. Surrendering to myself. This life. The things I wanted. My mind will lead me home if I let it. My mind will lead me home if I let it. My mind will lead me home if I let it. Taste the ashes as I pull myself out. The air hits me in ways I’m not used to. Palms raised and I remember exactly where I’m at again because this place reeks of ghosts. -AMT