There were, ghosts, in her family portrait, those face that looked very scary, not the ones when your kids make those faces in your photo collections, oh no, it’s NOT those kinds!
Ghosts, in her family portrait, she’d flipped through that album again, as she sat, recalling her past, and, all of a sudden, there’s that look of shock on her face, and you could tell, that she’d found something awful, because of how her face had twitched, as though she were in pain.
Ghosts, in her family portraits, their faces had, faded, into gray now, and, they no longer, bothered her at all. Ghosts, in her family portrait, and, those were, of her fucked up childhood nightmares of long, long, long ago, they shouldn’t be haunting her now, she’s already an adult, all grown up, left those nightmares behind, but, those ghosts, they’d still catch up to her, every now and then, and, she’d become, cornered, with nowhere to hide………
and no, still NOT my photograph…
Life, the Obstacle Course 