Fall, And The Ghost Of You.

A. Granheim Photography/2016/San Pedro, CA

The leaves are dying on the trees 
As tragic as your love that died for me.
Their colors showing off the beauty of who they once where
Who they could have been,
Their true colors,
Before they tumble to the cold concrete below them.

I put my hood up on my sweater,
The crisp air invading my bones.
Chilling me.
Just like the whisper of your breath on my neck once did.
I wish it was you keeping me warm.
I wish I knew how to let you go.
You were the roots to my tree,
The air that I breathe,
The death of me.
The keeper of my soul,
The crusher of my dreams.

I will rise again after the Fall allows my powers to shine,
 allows my sisters, the witches, to heal me with their charms.
The magic in the air,
the things you don’t see,
right behind you,
you don’t even realize they are there.

Ghosts, goblins, witches, dreams of you.
Spells to bring you back to me.
A locket of hair,
A photo of you,
A memory we shared,
You, back in my arms,

Aphrodite shining bright,
 Bless his heart with lust and light, For me he
 can’t fight, His
 feelings so bright, He
 shall think of me day and night, It shall be between me and him,
 So mite it be!”