where did my ghost go?
she's not in the attic,
there's nothing up there
but boxes of static.
the trapdoor she slept in
is covered in rust,
the window she gazed through
all moldy with dust.
i came here to listen,
i came here by choice,
and by god i've forgotten
the sound of her voice.
with a sigh so loud
it would frighten the cattle,
there's no reason to linger,
so, come now, to battle.
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