The Haunting OR Just Call Me Heathcliffe

It’s just like the story (the legend),Of Wuthering Heights except in reverse,Childhood loves torn apart by circumstance:You’re the one who died leaving me to face the hurt.Which is worse, I’m sure I already know?To be dead but still roaming the earth: Lost, cold and alone,Or to be me; I sense you continually,In every corner of more


I wish things could go back,To the way they used to be,Before I became this person,I don’t recognise anymore.Life was a sweet treat,And maybe I was in denial,About certain things,But the tomorrows,Were full of bountiful hopes,And nothing seemed insurmountable.This skeleton staff is being,Stretched too thin,And I drift into tomorrow,Like a ghost that has a dim more