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To Dance With Ghosts -- poetry by Silus Marriott

I would dance with ghosts.

To be tangled in their arms, feeling their far away breaths,

To ask them whether their hearts still beat,

When their mortality has passed and gone.

I would dance with ghosts.

Cold hands made of smoke slipping through my own,

Their curious faces as they wonder if I am living, or if I am as they are.

Their voices like whispers, light years away.

I would dance with ghosts.

Beg for them to reveal their lives,

Tell me their tales,

Bring me to my knees with their smiles from centuries ago.

Perhaps we would dance in a long-forgotten castle,

The ballroom lit up with fading candles.

Or perhaps in a silent street,

Lit with white streetlamps that shine into your mind.

But I would not have to go far,

To dance with ghosts.

It seems they are all around,

You see their dull, lifeless grey eyes when they pass you.

The Perpetually Exhausted,

The Misunderstood,

The Overwhelmed and Overworked,

The disturbed, and the Restless,

The Children.

The Ghosts.

I would not have to go far,

To dance with these beings.

But they are too far to be saved.


Silus Marriott is a 15 year old student from the UK. She enjoys embroidering, making terribly stitched cushions with inspirational quotes on them, and reading her mum's psychology books. She's also thoroughly interested in 18 and 19th century history and women's fashion. Combine the two and you have some pretty cool lesbian themed romance novels. She gives writing a go every now and then, and would like to be published someday; hoping that the messy things she writes could comfort someone else in this hellhole of a world.

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