Haunted
Haunted, do you know how it feels to be haunted?
Not salt circle haunted, though there was still a salt
Put away the ghosts from your mind, this isn't their place
I've worked to reclaim this one sacred space
Working through a week of dishes someone else was meant to do
Scrubbing hopelessly at stains caked on from years of greasy torment
My grandfather enters, "did you see the mail I left atop your desk?
A card welcoming you as a new voter, now that you've turned 18"
Soap and salt do well to take care of stains, a handy trick
Just scrub until the layers peel back and give way to their inner shine
Scalding though cleansing though scary though sick, it's fine
How pure it must feel to be like this all the time
Why weren't those years mine?
Donated, spent sleeping on carpeted floor and hardwood
For the greater good
And for her sake
If that's what it takes, I told myself
To keep her safe, yes, I'll do anything and more
Too much can leave a soul equally as sore
No instincts, no signals
All danger ignored
And scored, my skin, my flesh, it stings
Swiping out at false targets attempting to win
Shooting allied sandbags for no reason but fun
Because she forgot why she ever had to purchase the gun