ghosts

From the womb, visceral, screaming, pale bodied and blue eyed. Untouched, unbroken. Born into the power of the North wind, swilling with destiny. The child saw with clarity what others did not, a soul of earth and fire, she laughed with the shadows. She danced with the shadows. Not shadows, but a child, blonde and wise. Moonlight streaming through the window, on the child of death. Where has he gone mother, every morning she pleaded. My only friend, where has he gone. I am all alone when the sun is up, he only comes to me at night. From the wardrobe in the corner he crawls, into the gold and blue room. The mother recoiled, her child, a monster, a witch. Witch of death. Like her father, he too saw the child. A giggling shadow in the night. The sound of cartweels on rooftops. I died in fire, in coal, in neglect. I am a saviour, I am a lover. Witch. Another living child enters the house, a boy, death hung over his dreams. Vomit and pus and seizing. The frantic phantom doth summon the father, the father followed the shadow, a running child, into the room where his only son lay dying. Saviour. His victory given to God. God, fuck God. Witch. Chessboard tiles, angel delight, the mischief of cupid. Her heart would forever belong to the otherside. Leaping over garden walls to frolic with the living. Tears and tears and tears. Onto tights, and skirts and jumpers. Hatred, such violent cursed hatred, hatred from the living, against a child. Child of the veil. Reaching out, reaching out to the mother. Vulnerability rewarded with violence and screaming. Liar. Witch. Liar. Black cat, stuck in a loop. Appearing, disappearing, appearing, disappearing.