GHOSTS

Our home is haunted by my depression. 

My guilt follows me room to room,
tethered by something no one else can see. 

Around the corner, you’ll find my anxiety
pacing back and forth. 

In the kitchen my anger is breaking dishes

no one else hears shattering. 

At our dinner table, my fear takes her seat without
needing to be asked. 

My emptiness finds me in the shower, where I can wash
away everything but her. 

Even in my bed, the quiet sets in
where sadness rocks me to sleep.

Author's Note

Excerpt from a poetry book I am currently working on.