my ghost

Cyrus Larcombe-Moore

I spent two years banishing a ghost from my head.
So now it sits in my back garden.
And sometimes it stands by the kitchen window,
watching us scramble breakfast eggs
and burn toast.
 
And every now and then,
whenever I’m not alone,
it stands at the end of my bed.
and it will sleep in my cupboards
among the baggy t-shirts and jumpers.
 
And where ever it goes I smell chestnuts,
honey, cinnamon, raisins.
It still gives me butterflies,
and the smell clings to everything.
I just wish I could eat alone sometimes.