1893

It was just a fluke that I happened to see

The ghost of a girl in 1893

I didn't think much of her, tried to ignore

But then she came 'round in 1894

A spirit was not something that I had wanted

But slowly it became quite fun to be haunted

She would leave on my pillow queer gifts just for me

A branch from a very old sycamore tree 

Baby teeth, knotted string, rows of skeleton keys

A spoonful of honey from very old bees

And I'd leave for her the things ghosts enjoy

Silent letters, cracked mirrors, teardrops from a boy

So slowly I realized that without me wanting

I had become a person who did haunting

Though still alive my skin had gone translucent

My bones started molding, muscles went abducent

And when I disappeared, my face hollow and gaunt

The first thing I did was find someone to haunt