A Specter Waiting

Courtesy: Pixabay
Born into death,
breathing her last before her first,
she drifted through life
knowing it was a lie.
A ghost crying out for love,
a specter waiting,
she met each gaze that looked through her,
the whole of her emptiness lost in longing.
She’d try,
and try again,
to find the touch that’d make her whole.


©October 2019, Christina Anne Hawthorne

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