Burglars please leave Nothing to take from this place Only old ghosts & cobwebs
Our newsletter documenting life at DARP through a different resident. This week is Fibi. Check out her website at www.fibicowley.myportfolio.com
I am the ghost of Michael House School.
I am the light that turns on in the evening
without you asking it to
and i am the thing that bats at the window,
sounding like its scratching to get in,
and Itooam haunted.
The inhabitants of this house
think I’m an apparition.
Those eight legged, winged specters
hover around me in possessed-bug-host-bodies,
curious, but disturbed.
In the dark, I look expectantly at reflective windows
waiting to see ghoulish faces.
Instead I see my own, a friendly poltergeist.
I shift the furniture around for my own amusement
And sift through detritus-debris carefully
to put it back as though i never touched it.
I am the ghost of Michael house school.
I am living where the living left off,
they scarpered and took all the good stuff.
A squatter in a foreign timescale,
I walk through the ruins
and sleep within the house’s bones,
clinging on where companions left off
in a place halfway across the threshold of here and not.