this infection

The ghost who haunts inside my room
has been there for a hundred years.
I tried to hit it with a broom,

it hit back. I burst into tears.
I wish it lived some other place
that was far away from here.

I've never even seen its face.
It rattles doors and bangs on walls.
I keep the lights on, just in case

but all this fear has scared me small.
It killed the flowers, they don't bloom.
I fall down to my knees and crawl

but there's a certain type of doom
the ghost brings, and it won't leave soon.