How long have I been dancing with ghosts?
Repugnant,
Marred,
Rotten,
Macabre.
I slept with corpses,
And their memories visited my dreams,
Their frowns, their smiles,
Their joys and their sighs.
Thus, I bear witness that they once were indeed alive.
The plum tree from my childhood,
Denuding,
Wilting,
Decaying,
Withering.
Oh, how long have I haunted my ghosts?
Each hang from a branch,
Breathing the air they sucked out of me.
Tainting my most precious remembrances,
The cackles of my childhood,
Ring somewhere in a distance,
I just hold still,
Watching my plum tree die,
Wondering, “must I say goodbye?”