Your hands aren't as warm as they used to be,
when we were alive our souls burned and lit us from within,
now these bones are empty and my skin is pale and thin.
Our discrepancies disappear as the translucent stage begins,
once full of loud noises, the rumble of thunder,
reduced to a withering whisper.
We fade and begin once more to roam,
the heavy human street that took us home,
But your hands aren't as warm as they used to be,
your touch is now a brush or flutter.
And I can't quite hear you, your voice degraded to a mutter.
I miss the song you used to sing, and the way you blocked out the cold,
now it's hard to stay afloat and I'm starting to feel old.
So please come place your hands atop mine,
and let's haunt this town together,
let's moan and groan into the unknown,
the way we used to when we were alive.
Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a like or comment or send me a message! (inspired by this line from James Arthur's Say You Won't Let Go.) 'I wanna live with you Even when we're ghosts 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most'