Shadow Of A Ghost

I am not a name. I am the shadow of certain death cast in the heartbeat of a clock. The taste of the stuck window when a door is sealed shut in a house fire. A heavy sigh in the shadows of your decisions. I was born in a hatred of emotional absence. Carved from the souls of tragedy where discarded gods go to pray for humanity. My breath retroactively etching stone. A labyrinth screaming straight lines are a fear induced mirage. A grinning allegory radiating meaning between dreams you never followed. The ghost of your hopelessness folded unto itself, repeated in a shameful arousal humming against your conscious. I walk on the edge of your spine where metaphor breaks skin. Where story stops talking and forces itself into action. If you see me move, listen to my energy. I am your reflection.