ghost in the shell

we
meaning most of us
don’t think about ghosts the same
i have ideas
feelings
neurochemical tickles that i am certain
come from my dead mother
maman est muerte
and various
women
haunt snowstorms
all over the planet
throughout my echoplex
of images sounds words and longing
i long for ecstasy just out of reach
a girl
an unknown fire keg of desire
with eyes untarnished by cynicism
or the weight of the world
i have a ghost among the living
my ex-wife
haunts me more than she should
not about her
not exactly
about our son
the one having issues
usually there’s one good kid
and one
other
alt
missing in action
mainly
inaction in this case
the ghost hovers on the first floor
listening for creaks cries for help
unable to process the sadness
she inhales like a licorice ice vape
to jack any emotional information
into a different dimension
it is a thing
an issue
today
fracturing minds
into toks and swipes and scrolls
hit hit hit
swallow medicine
prescribed
or obtained through different channels
she trip sits a boy
with no maps of her own internal damage
instruments no longer sensing loss or anguish
burned out in the storm blizzard icepocolypse
our world spiraling outward and away from love
my son
twists under the microscope of
why
how
when
and what
she
his pale mother figure
dances like a skeleton
devoid of courage
expressing empathy in unhealthy dance patterns
they’ve been doing since

i
was forced to leave
to give them
space

away
from
me

we are in the same movie
my son is trapped under his own lies
ghosts
pressing on all sides
mine are identified counted and even courted
suppressing vile influences
cold bony hands
reaching out for support
from the one who needs it the most

3-23-24

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