blue-white light pools on the floorboards 
that enter the room 
through
the crack of the door
slightly open
the sizzle of the fridge
is not the fuzz-noised lullaby needed
tonight 

underneath my skin
the haints awaken
from their slumber
as my body remembers
re-members 
the night(mare) everything    changed 

these hauntings are hungry
and
suddenly shadows become
bodies
peering out
the corner of my mind
these eye tricks do not fade
in blinks

the therapist said
scrolling the phone makes it worse
but 
at least the ghosts were distracted
thier mumbles covered by
thirty second dance videos

instead 

here i lie
not dead
(they are not either)