Bloody Footprints

Ghosts of the past
come with clawing requests,
but have they forgotten
the lives they once led?

Bloody footprints.
Bloodier remnants.

Here in the dust,
the wreckage, the mess,
outlines of bodies,
chalked-repose, rest
with rictus grins
penciled in.

After all, old reminders
need a lighter heft
for those who demand
the painless memory
that suits them best.

But, I know you
by the stains you left
as your heavy feet
stomped and bled.

Bloody remnants,
reminiscent of you –

I cast them to the gutter,
where time’s claws collect
her due, and now
old wounds weep

only the truth.