if apologies could bandage the scars
I have induced & the wreckage abandoned,
that she wears as a burden so beautifully flawed,
and could erase the scars embedded,
I would. but I cannot muster the courage
to master meaningless words,
words softly spoken sound so selfishly sincere,
words sadly spoken only so my suffering could dissipate, evaporate like rain in a desert
to justify the decisions of a child:
words that would do nothing
to bandage the wounds they helped create.
– from “The Phantom I Became”
We are relationships and lovers and lies and lives and everything in between. We are the ghosts in the reflection: the image, the cringe, the memories, and fictions. Most of all we are who we are until someone takes our breath away.
James F. Miller’s Ghosts in the Reflection walks into a modern world of chaos and emotions gone awry. It’s the way society sees itself but refuses to remedy anything. There are no roses growing here. This is sidewalk chalk guiding readers through each crack in the concrete.
Sometimes people love the idea of love, but just can’t grasp the meaning. This is a book of maybe-love and the endless trek toward something real.