My ghosts used to visit me everyday, we'd used to lay on my bed and talk for hours. When it got late, they'd curl up on my chest and fall asleep with me. While they weighted me down, I didn't mind their company, there was something comforting about them, they had been residing with me for so long, I didn't know anything different. It sounds crazy now, but back then I didn't have anything else to compare it to. It wasn't until the hospital that I realized they had to go, I was going to die if I didn't evict them, they were too heavy of a burden and I was drowning. It's been a battle and there are times when I feel them lurking in the shadows, but I've had too many good years basking in the warmth to go back there. Plus I've met joy.