Haunt Poems - Poems about Haunt

Image : 3 In water dark, I learn to drown A silence colder than the sea The ghosts I fled still pull me up In water dark He haunts the edge where I should be A memory I never chose Still carves his name inside of me He finds me gasping, cold, stripped bare Each time I hide, he leaves a mark I bleed unseen...

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You’re the tame auspiciously lurking in the still of my nightmares, frivolously evicting the static that haunts my memories, illuminating this frantic mind if even for a second. Crippling the narrow minded ways in which I’ve become entrapped, a one way road futile in substance and willingness to succeed The savior of superficiality aligning the monstrosity of...

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there were times when I did not understand him times when I fought with my heart, to remember time would not forget the days that were so grim it wouldn’t be that long, just before December he would tell us that love had come to his life years after this, I’d see that stirring ember sparks of hope divine to heal...

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Sometimes I wonder, if I’m wasting my seconds trying to prove love lasts longer when you drown it with gin. Her ghost circles back— again, again— the Poppy wears a saccharine, serrated grin— (oh, how I’ve missed it) nestled among my worn-out keycaps. I didn’t mean to write her— I keep pressing delete— But she never blinks. That's when I know– I must write and write and write and...

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You made me cry, Your actions hurt my heart, I should’ve known, We were broken from the start. I thought I knew you, But you aren’t who I thought you were, You’re heartless, And a monster. I loved you, You didn’t want me, Now, whenever I look at you, Your eyes haunt me....

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I have too many regrets they bloom like tumors in the soft tissue of memory, each one pulsing with what I should have said before silence set in like rigor mortis. I swallowed whole versions of myself the reckless, the brave, the boy who ran before the door slammed shut. Now I speak in echoes of things I almost did. I wear lives that were never mine borrowed skin stitched with...

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She sails where the bayou kisses the tide, a phantom queen with a mournful glide. The paddle churns, though no hands steer, and jazz floats faint on a breeze unclear. Her lanterns burn with a ghostly hue, casting gold on waters black and blue. No passengers board, no voices ring-- just whispers soft as a violin string. The captain’s hat is dust and...

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it began with a creak, low and hollow, as if the staircase exhaled a secret meant only for me. at first, i told myself it was nothing— just the old bones of the house shifting, just the wind brushing the eaves. but then came the whisper: soft, deliberate, threading through the night like cold fingers. “come closer,” it said. i stayed still. the air thickened. my heart tapped...

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Vague memories haunt me still, they come whether sadness or thrill, too often at the very worst time, it rings in my head, a Pavlov chime, some reactions are unrehearsed, but at the same time I feel versed, like a dark coffee my actions appear bold, when in turn, inside I break and fold, you, most...

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"Silenced tears, muffled screams, A storm penetrating in your chest that seizes your soul, Is god watching the world burn? The bricks that create a barricade were the ones confiscated within me, and with mentioning it, those guards have crashed and now are under sea water level so nobody could pick it up again- and...

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In the chill of night, when shadows dance and sway, A tale of Halloween, I'm bound to convey. A story woven from the threads of scare, Beware the whispers in the haunted air. In a quaint old town, where cobwebs hung, Where eldritch secrets from the rafters clung, The people gathered, dressed in fright, To celebrate...

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The door doesn't shut The windows don't open, But, give it some time Some wishin' and hopin' Creaking floorboards And the coldest drafts, Occupy these rooms With echoes of laughs Only a house rundown Is what the eye sees, Yet, the deadest place Is alive with memories The lady in the cellar The man in the attic, Shrieking and calling And stomping erratic Below a leaky roof My...

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In twilight's grasp, the whispers creep, Through shadows where the old trees weep. The Halloween tree, gnarled and bare, With branches twisted, a spectral snare. Under its limbs, the spirit stays, In flickering lights, lost in a haze. Jack o'lanterns grin with wicked glee, Yet those who linger, never free. A tale of a girl named Elise,...

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In the shadows where the whispers creep, Where secrets lie and silence weeps, An ancient curse walks through the night, The old zombie stirs, a ghastly sight. With tattered clothes and eyes of gray, It roams the earth in disarray, A shuffling gait on broken ground, The echo...

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In twilight’s grip, where shadows creep, A haunted trail begins to weep. The wind it howls, a mournful tune, As ghosts emerge beneath the moon. The gnarled trees twist in despair, With every step, I sense their stare. Each rustling leaf, a whispered plea, For those who tread...

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