Possessing to Write

Ghosts possess me
To share their story
I try to hide and flee
For their stories are gory

But they always find me
And when I refuse
They will take over me
Their death is always their muse


They control my hand
And write what happened
Some writing down what they demand
Their judgement has severely blackened

Doing more than just writing
Killing those who look like their killers
Their anger continuously rising
Using anything they can, even scissors

I can see, hear, and even feel
Living their last moments with them
It’s horrible; sometimes I don’t know what’s real
Watching those who hurt us not be condemned

We become one and feel as one
Angry and sad at the same time
And when we are done
We separate after the last rhyme