Only Ours

Some thrums evade the eardrums.

This ghost is one if those;

And like other no-see-ums,

You may not know they're close.

It likes to hide in the seams

Of old, closeted clothes,

And in the spaces between -

Like corners of your nose.

But if the moon blushes blue

And it gets mighty pissed -

Or if you've not paid your dues 

And land on the shit-list;

Your limbs will begin to cramp

And you'll start to see stars.

Make no mistake, that's the stamp

Of the ghost, "Only Ours".

If that's the case,

Don't try to run!

It loves the chase,

'Cuz it's more fun.

They'll leave their post

Like a fast car,

To throw your bones

Some nasty scars.