Ghost face on my hips,
yeah ghost face on my lips,
ghost face on my tongue,
licking every blood drop he can get,
yeah,
slowly learning how to do the dance,
never listening to the hell of it,
yeah,
comedy in my pocket, wallets in my holes,
telling everybody about the body of Christ,
like, what are those?
Ghost face on my hips,
yeah,
Ghost face on my lips,
Yeah,
Ghost face on the corner of my tips,
Yeah, Yeah, money...
Pieces of scripture burning through my eyes,
the sounds of the animals screeching in my ears,
listening to the fur that they hibernate in,
never afraid of the darkness but listening to the light to just survive,
Yeah, Yeah, survival...
Ghost face on my hips, Ghost face on my lips,
but the ghost that saves is...
The grace of the face of the Blue Ghost Face.
About the Creator
Nonnah Fain
My muse is mental health. I get a high off of writing. I write about everything, we are all walking stories.
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Quoth
Unnoticed, the clock struck into the next day. Before my eyes, as midnight came and went, the words on the pages over which I poured blurred together. Meaningless under my over-tired gaze, they looped around themselves, slowly winding lines of text twisting themselves into knots as I watched, barely awake enough to do more than notice the change.
By Alexander McEvoy2 days ago in Fiction
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