I never chase ghosts of my past
I want them to stay where they are
In the past
Yet, they never do
Some days a ghost of my past
Sits down and drinks coffee
With me in the morning
While I am dealing with a headache
After another night of drinking too many –
No one sees the ghosts, but I do
Through the pain I remember
Where I saw him last
Laughing, drink in hand.
Leaving me behind at the bar
Now with cold eyes, haunted face
I lost him that night
Thanks to the pouring down rain
And the tree he didn’t see
Going 90 miles a hour
Gone in 30 seconds
Love of my life – lost
I don’t chase the ghosts of my pain
I just wish they would stay there –
Sitting in the back corner of my favorite bar,
Alone, another night again of one too many,
That’s when she comes to sit
No one sees her but for me
Ghost of a childhood friend
Remembering when I saw her last
Laughing, too drunk to say no
I lost her that night
To a drug overdose
They found her in the river
She never had a chance
Why do I feel survivor guilt
Because I turned down getting into his truck?
I don’t chase the ghosts of my past
Yet they find me each night in the bottom of a bottle
Some ghosts come and go
Some never staying long
Just long enough
To remind me, as they fade away
But the ones that stay?
Causing me the most pain
Just seeing them, remembering time when they walked among the living
The ghosts of old friends, lovers and even family
Pain and more pain
Hurting the most when they stop by
When one stops by?
Causing me to stop, tears start falling down my cheeks
Wishing I could stop drinking for good
Just a small child
It tears at my heart to see her ghost
Knowing why she comes, deep in my mind
I can still hear myself still screaming at the doctors to save her –
But they couldn’t save her
In a blink of eye, she was gone
She never had a chance –
Ghosts of my past
Each one stops, while I cry
Pain hits like a train
Causing me to stop drinking
Swearing I will never pick up another drink
But it never lasts
Some ghosts seem to know better to be seen
Till I start drinking again
It’s a stare down till they leave
I cannot fix the past
I don’t talk about the ghosts I see
Who is going to believe
A old drunk like me?
After all, they are my personal demons
My ghosts, my past, my shame
I ask for another drink
Hoping tonight, just this once
I will be left alone by the living and the dead…
copyright 2026 by Kim Snyder
