(Photo of Misty Layne)





Ghosts sleep in your bed at night

And you wonder if they’re happier than you

Do they dream of the past

Or are they simply stuck repeating it for infinity

(much like you seem to be)


Do they dream of moving on too

Dream of white lights at the ends of tunnels

Dream at all even

Or are they happy to be where they are

(keeping you company late at night whispers in the dark)


So you decide to ask

Late one night, early one morn

After another sleepless night of watching them sleep beside you

Wondering if they’re your ghosts or just there

(or if it really even matters so long as you’re not alone)


And they tell you

They say that they never dream

Not anymore, they’re simply there

Drawn to you, like the moth to the flame

(because your demons make attractive playmates it seems)


Ghosts sleep in your bed at night

And you know they’re happier than you

Know they’ve made friends with parts of you

That you’ve never even recognized, don’t even remember

(but it’s okay, you were always afraid of being by yourself in the dark anyway)


© Misty Layne


Bio: Misty Layne is a writer from Alabama and New Jersey. She has previously published a book of poetry and has written film reviews for several sites including Rogue Cinema and her personal site, CinemaSchminema.