The day you learned that ghosts were real
You saw the specter of yourself at fifteen
Shrouding a girl you didn’t recognize
But who wore the same drab jacket paired with
The same slightly out of fashion hair bow that
You felt so pretty wearing that year.
Your shoulders tightened with hers
In an unintentional act of self-protection,
Contradicting the overeager smile of yours
That lingered forgotten on her lips as she nattered
With calculated breeziness with friends just a bit
Too cool for her to risk relaxing into herself.
Lest the apparition should witness your
Decades-buried flush reborn, you fled.