Mt Royal Ghosts

I’m living in a room
filled by beautiful ghosts,
souls that have passed
though my heart in their travels
    ....and drift.
Spirits vapor and smoke
pressing me to my bed,
I’d have like to have been outside,
but my ghosts wouldn’t let me.
Writing surgically removes parts of you
never to return,
and sometimes you feel the emptiness
of a space once haunted
now filled by nothing.
Ironically, ghosts make good company
just as lonely feels like nothingness
and yet is something.
I would be one to end here
love is most often better
once it’s been set free
I wish I’d said goodbye better
but in wake
my ghosts wouldn’t let me