Here’s the Deal

You have the woman you married.
I suffer the one that haunts.
Yours is flesh and blood.
Mine is a wisp here, a footstep there,
a sobbing sometimes, a wail more often.

You’re just aggravated.
I’m mostly in terror.
You fall asleep plotting her demise.
I stay awake pleading,
“What do you want of me?”

You’re unaware of the grave in the cellar.
I know it’s there. I dug it myself.
I’m you five years down the road.
You’re me thinking five years later
can’t come soon enough.