Haint

My aunt’s a haint. She haunts my dreams and my toilet paper.

That haint came into my house and wouldn’t leave until I yelled at it.

I saw a haint in my kitchen. It stared me down like I owed it money.

My neighbor’s a haint. She yells at squirrels and eats my lunch.

That haint in the woods is probably my ex.

My mom called my teacher a haint. I got grounded for life.

That haint in the old house is probably my great-grandma’s ghost. She’s been dead for 100 years and still hates me.

I saw a haint at the grocery store. It was wearing my old socks.

My dog ran away from a haint. That’s when I knew it was bad.

My cousin’s a haint. She took my lunch money and my dignity.

That haint in the hallway looked like my mom. But she was way meaner.

My teacher said I was a haint. I failed math and my self-esteem.

My grandma’s a haint. She cursed my dog and my math test.

That haint in the woods looked like my sister. But she was way more annoying.

I saw a haint at the mall. It was wearing my old hat and my sister’s face.

That haint at the park looks like my mom. But she’s got a raccoon face and a raccoon attitude.

My dog ran away from a haint. It looked like my brother’s face.

I saw a haint in my house. It was wearing my old pajamas and my mom’s face.

That haint won’t stop following me. It’s obsessed with my taint.

My neighbor’s a haint. It haunts my taint and my shower.

I saw a haint in my shower. It was staring at my taint like it was a job.