Hall of Bones by Rachel Davey

It’s too late now to crave the sun,

when I’ve spent so long in cynicism

among the rotting skeletons of the past,

a museum I’d visit alone,

down echoed hallways carved of bone,

raising the dead to their former glory, 

failing— every time— failing, 

to bury them in the ground.

Now I bring you with me, 

unassuming,  

smiling, oh, smiling, 

burrowing your way into my heart,

to the gray parade of ghosts,

I’ll drain your life force,

make poems out of you,

when it all goes to hell,

your bones will litter my halls too,

eternally restless, 

carved into shapes you never were:

a soulmate who could’ve loved me,

if only you’d been sure.

Oh it’s your fault, you know,

one more lover turned foe,

oh it’s my fault, 

I know.

I can never let go.

Rachel Davey is an aspiring writer who loves a creepy twist in her work. She has previously published poetry, short stories, and a personal essay. Currently, she is working on writing her very first novel about a teenage girl whose best friend is a ghost!