Ghost

you are not dead

You’re just a ghost

A living ghost stuck in the past forever with the future full of glory and glittering smoke

You’re not dead

But why do you make others try to feel so alone? When was the transition of tragedy imposed on

The ones that cling to your shadowy frame?

Why are you dragging behind the curtain and screaming in public about scenes we can’t understand?

Why is this kindling drowning in burning sand, as you layer our dank landscape with

Dead skin that cries for a fresh body?

Cells are a part of your skin

But also what you create

You should know that others can feel things differently and trust in logic and reasoning

And ghosts can also apply

Elbow grease to their creaking fixtures and mature.