The blaring alarms and glaring deadlines

The to-do list that never seems to end

The grade, the cheque, the letter,

the destiny-determining piece of paper

The toilet bowl with stinking remnants

of chocolate cake and guilt

The plans that were erased by two lines on a stick

The patterns you trace in your freckles

wondering if they  spell regret

The too familiar smell you run into

The memories you don’t remember to forget

The words, so carelessly uttered,

wreaking havoc in your head

till they’re all you hear

The goosebumps on the back of your neck

where his lips once were

The demons you’ve got that have the same face

The dreams you didn’t chase

The road you didn’t take

The heart that was broken

The words left unspoken

The museum of your almosts

The ghost of the person you used to be

The ghost of one you never will

Tell me, honey,

what haunts you tonight?