My Ghosts

Virgil Taylor

empty chairs at empty tables,

oh how the world goes ‘round.

they vanished into the night,

didn’t even make a sound.

you told me not to stand at your grave and weep,

so I couldn’t cry-

I just went to sleep.


cold, the world became.


and so I took on your name.

I wrap it around me like a coat,

Let it fall into the cracks and crannies

of the person that I’ve become.


I’ve worn mourning bands,

Plain for all to see.

Each loss marked in black ink-

Pressed under skin.

My grief is a stain,

And time will never wash it clean.


But maybe one day,

With time it can fade.


Maybe one day,

I can be


That person you always needed me to be.