Ghosts And Tequila

I've missed you, thinking of days past. I couldn't escape utter silence. I intentionally revoked certain knowledge, standing on the steps of an haunted house. A paper skeleton hung from the door, a ghost of broken promise. Detachable limbs. Threatening to call the police to interrupt a shot of tequila. A certain ghoul, tequila. Recollecting involuntary disgust. The look of your eye. Full, chocolate. The horror heard from your voice. A sudden shriek shrouded by excessive need. My world slowed, haunted by your everlasting stare. That Insidious scene played once again. The cruelty of silence. A ghoulish thing, the haunting of something no longer there. Please I beg of you, next Halloween reconsider dressing as a ghost. I'll miss you even more