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The Beginning

"Holding Hands with Ghosts"

By Abby SlyterPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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My problem is that I collect

little pieces of everyone I meet.

I collect their stories and their

good times and their bad times and

that blush that creeps onto their cheeks when

they’re embarrassed.

I stow away their candid smiles and

their laughs that are almost too loud and

the way they sound when they say

my name.

I lock away all the times they’ve

held my hand or brushed my shower and

all the good mornings and goodnights and

every breath in-between.

And then

they’re gone and

I’m stuck holding hands with ghosts and

reliving stories like they were mine to tell in the

first place.

I’m left with words and stolen photographs and

far more I miss you’s than I know

what to do with.

heartbreak
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About the Creator

Abby Slyter

Small-town writer who loves reading and writing words that make people feel. Continually surrounded by books, Broadway, and my dogs. Spreading love through poetry and short memoirs, glimpses into the array of moments in my life.

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