Ghosted

I feel like an invisible ghost, ready to vanish.
Extinguished by my negative thoughts.
Transparent even though I am already exposed
Words, spilling as I stumble over hope.
Butterflies, repeating fluttering.
Will it start again as it once was?
Can I bring you back to me?
As I stand, watching you focus on the game in your hand.
~Angela K. Crandall~
©10/23/18

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