trash bag of memories

my daughter's bedroom
is a guest room now

there will be no guests
just me
my sadness
and this trash bag
of memories

in this room that
was once hers
the ceiling is leaking

the ghosts tell me 
i am a poltergeist 
my tears manifested
this room weeps
because i can't 

i hold on to my nightmares
thinking i can change 
them in to dreams

the dead out number the living
this is a real nightmare
 i see them everywhere 
all the time

they are writing 
this poem

grief is the door
to the other side

or it was 

there is no door anymore
 now that i am
a ghost
living in the past