Who are you?

I see you.

Are you a ghost?

I see your face, your expression, your clothes, how you walk; in a line up I could pick you out.

Then you disappear and I know you’re not real.

Where are you?

I hear you.

Chatter, chatter, taunt; from the right of me, the left of me, ahead of me and behind me,

I hear you, yet you leave.

Did you just touch me?

Hey! That’s intrusive – keep your distance!

Touchy feely ghosts are not welcome here.

A floating fist tries to punch me, but I flap it away before it touches me; it dissolves.

I can taste Jack Daniels in my coffee,

But there’s none in there.

I can smell cigarettes; who’s smoking? I don’t smoke,

It must be memory smoke impregnating the air.

There’s spiders on the carpet.

Stamp them out!

Invisible wrigglers, I’m not happy about those,

They creep me out.

It’s okay, they’re not really there.

The phone’s ringing again.

There’s no-one at the other end.

It’s just my hallucinations calling me,

My invisible friends.

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