Ghosts
Ghosts ghost stories
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blondee
blondee Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
A letter to the ghost that stole my soul.

Ghosts

They say some things about ghosts that lead me to believe,

you must be a ghost, or wait-

is the ghost really me?

I wouldn't believe it in a hundred years, that something like this existed.

The easier it is to see the truth, the more I am conflicted.

Who am I to someone like you? Aside from a crippled joke?

My insides scream out, but my voice is nothing but a pathetic choke.

You have me writing poems again. I find it quite amusing.

But it's exactly that, that thing you do, that makes this all so confusing.

Your dark eyes burn deep in my mind, as I sit here and remember.

Did I seriously fuck this up? Like, you were actually just tender?

I contemplate with every letter inked across this page, whether or not to share this,

I feel like I owe it to you though, because it was you that caused me to stop being so careless.

It seems ironic, doesn't it,- but irony feels clique. And now I'm fucking up again and straying from what I really need to say.

Is it possible to love someone you don't even really know?

Or do we ever know another person, or only know the parts they show?

Think about it for a second, because you will fucken figure it out. I'm falling in love with someone that won't even try to hear me out.

I realize I put myself in this place, yes, it's all my fault. I just need you to understand.

It's no excuse, I know I know, but you've always had the upperhand.

You're haunting me all the time, I can't seem to make you go away.

Do thoughts of me ever linger in your head, on any given day?

I'm still fucking going, and have way too much left to say.

You know,

I hate to admit that you are holding that part of me.

I'm sure it proves I'm blind.

But they don't see the ghosts we see,

and I see yours all the time.

I never gather the courage, because you intimidate me to the core.

And what's fucked up is how I said I'd never let this happen, I swore and swore and swore.

This world I have created, is it more than just a dream?

Does your ghost cry out for mine? Mine cries until I scream.

Every fucking second, of every single day, you lurk in the shadows of my mind.

I crave to know you more, and I have waited for all this time.

I need to satisfy my thirst, and I know you feel that too.

We owe it to ourselves to try to do what's overdue.

Every bit of all of this is too surreal to accept, ya know?

But my ghost is out there, lost with yours, like Juliet and Romeo.

Call it what you will, but I'm running out of time. We are all running out much quicker than we let ourselves define.

I can't keep running like this, unless it is with you. So be my ghost, and come scare me with your forbidden, ghostly "BOO!"

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