The pixellated letters materialized on my screen
the same way I imagine full-body apparitions
of hanged witches return with all its fury.

Through hearts that find no rest,
And truths, perpetually silenced,
It comes back from somewhere cold.
Hanged witches, I call all words unsaid, unsent.

Easily way too much, I understand,
for anyone with half a heart to scare.
Stand firm, say a prayer,
it's as if it was never there.

Unsaid, unsent,
That flashing line, I let eat all my letters,
one by one, all words, gone as it seems,
and with it, the eeriest hauntings begin.

© ciarawrites