Phantom Dwelling (Collaboration)

Ghosts can't smother me,
they don't exist,
or so people say.
But then, people always say that 
your past doesn't have to define you,
and neither does your present.

I find that the things 
people always say;
       the empty platitudes that
       merge into endless litany
those are the things
people are always
getting wrong.

There are ghosts making bed
so deep inside my mind,
curtaining off the empty spaces
and adhering themselves to the walls.
They leave no room for nostalgia,
or for sentimental recollections.

If there are no places
to keep these disgraces
from clouding my mind,
then how can I open the blinds?
I want to invite jovial beings
inside to sit on my sofa 
and have light-hearted chats.

I want to reinvent myself,
open the windows, let the sun in,
and dust off the ornaments;
and if I could only make
somebody smile, I think it
would all be okay.

But they say your past doesn't have to define you,
and neither does your present.
It's time to throw open the front door,
shoo the lingering shades out 
and beckon in the world.