a half dead ghost writes a poem.
Hello again
From the abyss
The endless void of falling, crashing, burning
Once more
I’ve made the wrong choice
Took the blue pill, took the less traveled path
It took me down a long, hard road
Oh, no, I’ve never been the poster child skeleton
Oh, no, I’m not a vampire, I can see my reflection all too well
Out of the all the monsters I could have become,
Hello from your local ghost.
I’m not here to bang pots and slam doors
I just want some comfort, but I won’t beg in your corner
I’m not haunting your house, I’m haunting your attentions
Throw on a white sheet
Slip through the walls
A whisper in the dark
It’s getting bad again, please take me home
Not back to the graveyard, though
The hearses frighten me too much.
I stare stupidly into the mirror
My skin is translucent, my eyes are dimming quickly
But still
I’m not fully dead
Sometimes I wish it would sweep me off my feet
A knight in shining armor coming to save me from myself
Carry me off on a grand white horse
We’ll go to a towering castle where I’m safe and sound
Up the spiraling stairs, to a big clean bedroom
Looking down from the windows, my perfect kingdom come
No stress, and I’ll never feel the hunger pains again.
But I’m not dead yet
I’m not a true ghost
I toe the line, I sit on the fence
Can’t pass through the walls just yet,
I’ve been told I look dead
But dead people always look best in the coffin
So
I request a bouquet of daisies on my chest
There won’t be any taunting plates
Or menacing soda cans
I won’t have to wake up wondering
Maybe I’ll collapse when I stand
Maybe I’ll reach my breaking point
Maybe I’ll just get worse and die
Or
Maybe someone will see me lurking and the corner and say
You are not a ghost yet, come join the living for a spell.