The Ghost of my Past Self(a poem)

i feel the ghosts surround me,
i can barely breathe,
all around, the ghost of me,

as a youth i was immature, as expected to be,
as i grew i never cared, what was expected of me,
a sort of respect for him forms, in a message from me,
but leaving him behind, was a lesson for me,

i hope my growth shows,
why should i, i don’t know,
i wouldn’t have before,
followed you through the door,

every conversation begins in the past and progresses to the present,
never reaching the future while conversing against a menace,
a menace known as time, who changes things often,
changes unseen, to those lost inside of it,

i tried to leave this place,
but here again i stay,
scattered is my brain,
undeveloped is my frame,

i don’t see things the same,
as if my eyeballs were bleached,
and replaced with a special paint,
that changed how i perceive,

those close to me will not see,
i will always have to live with it,
unless i become demented,
or begin to care less,

i feel the ghosts surround me,
i can barely breathe,
around the ghost of me.