Dense

Stuttering validation
Shortness of breath
I am
Pressing our souls
Together like hands held
In content and contempt

Tenderly laying me to rest
Your smile is betrayed
By the pity in your countenance
My heart and eyes are heavy
I would rather leave
But I keep pushing

ghosts

She whispers harshly
That the ghosts have come
Hands and feet drag by
Like a winter fog

Knotted fingers grasp the door
Footsteps like last gasps of air
A cold chill rips up my spine
I look past my sister’s face

Hollow eyes stare back
Before I can scream
She is pulled away
When I close my eyes

I can still see the whites of hers