There are ghosts in the telephone

I am lost

There are ghosts in the telephone
She says
Holding the receiver
As a tiny baby fist
Holding on for life or death
Using the last bit of strength she has left

There are ghosts in the telephone
She assures me

I can hear him he's still here
Repeating a few words in air
Repeating
Late at night he's the loudest
Drowning all other sounds out
He sits beside me in the lounge

There are ghosts in the telephone
She says
As she unveils herself infront of me in great racking sobs
Her eyes misty as though in fog
As only a mother could

He's still here
She says to me
He's in the telephone
Repeating, repeating

Reviews

[SquinklaPsyOps]

That sounds very interesting, if there was a way to send those ghosts to hell or to wear them out until they dissapear like a burning flame, we would be doing the world a big favor.

[soulesswriter]

scary i like ghost .this poem give you an image of whats going on and whats happening in matter of seconds but you can take this like theres someone who should be dead and are not and are scaring someone or startling them with there apperance. it could be taken both ways and still sound or give a good story

[Emily B]

oh, oh . . . this is perfection