Ghosts in your memory.
They wait with their burden.
Ethereal but heavy.
These specters in your mind
Static forever as you once made them
They live only on your insides
Waiting in durance they awaken as you remember
Passing by on your endless journey
Your heart dies for every effort it cannot change
But pumps blood to its own demise
These ghost now in periphery, shamble behind
Gaining purchase on your every step
Until again they arise a new iteration of the last
You are too weary to know the change
Who will they haunt when you are gone from their eyes.
A picture that was made at 30,000 feet.
A short break from all those in-flight movies and German flight attendants.
Good thing they didnt put me by the emergency exit.