Ghost

Some days it feels like my mind is a haunted house.

Covered in cobwebs

Alone in the silent dead of night

Haunted

Haunted by the all the ghosts of the girls I used to be.

Some days I feel like I am walking through a dream

The kind where everything is too bright

The kind where everything is too bright And impossibly dull,

The kind where everything is too bright And impossibly dull, Too loud

The kind where everything is too bright And impossibly dull, Too loud And somehow distant

The kind where everything is too bright And impossibly dull, Too loud And somehow distant All at the same time.

Some days, I feel like a ghost in a room full of people.

Everyone is talking

I am alone

Faded

Invisible

I think I am screaming,

I think I am screaming, But nobody else notices

I think I am screaming, But nobody else notices Maybe it is just in my head

I think

I think I couldn’t make a sound

I think I couldn’t make a sound Even if I wanted to.