Well, once again it's a Friday, the beautiful little capper for the week and considering the fun kind of week I began with and ended up with, I think it's time for an appropriate prose-poem to let the stress out, kick my feet up upon the ottoman and relax, dear readers! As always, enjoy!!!
Old Girlfriend Ghosts
She calls him late at home, but he never returns her calls and he's moved onto another woman, but she still longs for him.
Long ago, it has been over, but she still wants to be his friend. He doesn’t see the point in lingering, but still she will call thinking, she can get through to him. Why does she persist in calling him? Does she want to go back with him? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He only wishes to be rid of her.
He notices whenever he is involved with someone new, the old girlfriend ghosts beat a path back to his door, wanting to be with him once more, but he sends them packing, feeds their spirits to crows who will be snacking upon them in order to create new souls from the dead or left dying. Why are they crying? Weren’t they the ones who wanted it this way?
They just can’t come home anytime they choose. The door isn’t always open. The locks have been changed. The walls freshly painted. Whatever was previously tainted has been trashed. No signs of back-pedaling, he doesn’t want it that way, but they don’t understand---if only he could tell them to go away, but not in the way that they need to hear, he has to make it clear, that it will never be the same again.
But those ghosts keep coming, pursuant to affairs of the heart that haven’t ceased. He must tell them, tell them, it’s over, over, so that they can strangle themselves politely & die a natural death, return to the burial grounds inside The Gate Of Seth & let him be together with his new love.
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