there are those who haunt like
slamming doors and breaking glass
and there are those who haunt like
faint whispers, just out of ear shot
hoping to be heard
and not, simultaneously
if I came back as a ghost
after all these things I lived
I couldn’t haunt those I left.
even if they forgot about me
I’d close doors quietly
leave everything in place
and I’d still love them anyway
elleguyence 
Beautiful and elegant!
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This was beautiful!
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I hope you pardon the pun, but that was quite hauntingly beautiful.
What a benevolent spirit one must be to have means of causing a ruckus, of creating constant reminders of one’s self but to instead watch peacefully from a distance to allow their loved ones to slowly heal and move on.
Cheers, love. Beautifully written.
~ Adeline
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always beautiful work from you Elle 🙂 thank you for sharing with us
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Me too
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Some lead by example, and after they die, they haunt by example too. May we all aspire to this!
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Beautiful. You have a sweet spirit. As your poem says, you’re not one to intentionally inflict pain. I never quite understood those that do.
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Yes, the tender ghosts of love . . .
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Reblogged this on davidbruceblog #2.
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Very powerful in just a few words–love it!
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Oh, Elle, you are kind and forgiving! Beautiful piece.
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Lovely post
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Very beautiful writing…and you sound like a saint.
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Aaaaaw this is sweet.
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This is awesome. It expresses something interesting without losing its clarity.
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Well written, and I agree. I would allow the ones left behind to get over the pain of my passing.
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This is excellent. Beautiful and evokes such thought.
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Sweet thoughts 🙂
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