Bartering Ghosts

I don’t think it’s very fair

for a ghost disallowed a friend.

Not free to flitter between existence or not,

never allowed to crave the end.

The living have claimed the right to love,

no room left for those in-between.

But that very thought, that breath, that notion..

remains a ghost in the guise of a scream.

What luck of the breathing — to dance day to day.

In circles, in memory.

In character counts they play.

But must we, wish we an empathetic sin…

The end of the play, we sit in silence,

but don’t you dare breathe a whisper,

“even a ghost needs a friend.”

💜 me.