Of Many Voices

at times

it speaks with the voice of a young child

gentle and quiet and

soft like rose petals and just as beautiful

and sometimes it shouts

its voice loud and furious

and hard like the wall it tries to knock me into

but it can sound sad too

its voice brittle with the breaths of ghosts

and i hear it and think

of times when i felt that way too,

when i felt like i was a ghost

tonight it is not gentle

it is furious

and there are ghosts outside my window

reaching through the window casing

to touch me with their cold fingers

but they cannot

and as i watch this invisible spectre dance through the winter night

i think instead of the morning

and how beautiful the world will look

in its white dress