deepundergroundpoetry.com
the ghost who taunts me
my spirit wields a knife
she keeps it tucked in her boots
where I don't see it
I don't even catch her using it until it's too late
her intellect fearsome
she just reacts
then I am left with blood on my hands
this deadly soul is out of control
within its intentions, it speaks
I want to put people at ease
it wants to attack
people put up their guard when I approach
they know right where her switchblade is stashed
her tongue is beguiling
she bewitches even me
I hope people notice the difference
between this spirit and me
I am flattering but honest with the way I feel
this phantom that lingers about me just doesn't care
it mocks me singing back my own words
but with the sarcastic slant, she implies
it really is unnerving this mean ghost
it turns even the most pleasant conversations
cold
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