Dearest Ghosts of my past,
You will keep like this until you become forgotten. Until my memories are fading. Sometimes when I listen close enough, I can hear you. But I talk mostly and nobody is there. You once came to me stirringly and left like a hasty wind. There is still something left of you as a kind of an early morning mist. Now I only ache and ache while loneliness flows from my fingertips on to my typewriter keys. I have been left with the pondering why you made me feel like I needed to change. Shyness creeps inside me and loneliness wraps me in a veil of dusk. Everything is asleep, even the wind and the trees. Everything holds both memories and secrets that only the keeper can tell. You know who you are. A ghost. When all I have wanted to do was holding your hands and telling you that everything will be okay.
Yours sincerely,
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