The Ghost of Susie Baker

Scissors cut the shapes of stars, filling the room
Scrambling not to burn black, a charred entity of future years
The little girl burns…

Back to blue and good as new
But the porcelain keeps shattering
Crimson water flows like stagnant wine
A tiny voice calling her name
Susie is the chill in your nightgown lace
Bathroom tiles, smooth and hard
Keep broken fingernails snuggled between

She only wants to be loved
Jealous as girls tend to be
Speaking in tongues and lips on the husband
Leaves the lingering thought of adultery
Susie will tear us apart

The floor shakes, nothing on the Richter scale
The rusted swing-set, creaking in the still of night
Their faces aging, bags of sorrow under eyes
Crows feet scratched into temples

Another family gone in a flash
A petite apparition sadly waves farewell
An icy tear drops
A rose petal rests upon the ground
Waiting eternally as...

Scissors cut the shapes of stars