I try not to believe in ghosts

I try not to believe in ghosts,
but I catch glimpses of them in the eyes
of men who once swore to love me.
Lives drained away, exhausted
from the mere sight of me--
small, insignificant--
Little silhouettes trapped in their dead irises.
Perhaps in their sleep,
I creep into the mind's nooks and crannies.
But when daytime comes,
they rub their eyes,
and blink away my haunting.
Ghosts are but spectres to be forgotten.
Stop believing in them,
and they will no longer exist.