These ghost have been with me as long as I can remember.. I never did fear them.. I embraced their very presence and would always look for them..  They would do small things.. Like write Hi to me in the dust, Turn on lights, And walk with me under the night sky.. I never felt alone.. Even though I could not see them I knew they were always with me.  I could feel when I needed privacy that they would let me be..  But today I read a message in the dust that finally scared me..  It said " Are you a ghost?" It turns out I was the ghost all along..

They tell us to break the mold,
but sometimes the mold is too big to begin with.

Think outside of the box, they say,
expecting us to know how unique we must be to do so.

They tell us that the sky is the limit,
and then say to push the limits.

Us teenagers,
we're supposed to be invincible.
Right?

Plastered everywhere are the words,
"You must love yourself before anyone else can love you."

And that's why we're doomed.

Because self-loathing has poisoned all of us,
and for some,
that's what keeps them trying so hard to fit the mold.

Sometimes "the box" is the safest place to curl up and cry in.

Our insecurities are what keep us grounded,
unable to reach the stars.

So thank you,
society.
Because the standards you have set are bigger than the standards you have actually set.

And that's why we're doomed.

she’s the girl who will remember everything. from your birthday, to the story behind that scar on your left arm, to the number of freckles on your body.

she will love every inch of your body and your soul and even the heart you didn’t know you had.

she will take in everything you have to offer and give you back so much more. so much, that you won’t even know what to do with it.

she will open up the world for you. from books and music and film to things like culture and race and language.

she’s smarter and far more beautiful than she dares herself to show.

and you will love her.

you will love her like you’ve never loved anybody before.

she will level every winter your body has suffered with all the springs her bones have weathered.

and when you go, because you can no longer handle her, she will drown herself in alcohol and drugs and sorrow. and wonder why she wasn’t good enough.

she will refuse to be saved by any other hand because nobody can touch her quite like you.

she will **** herself with loneliness and then resurrect with her own scent.
and then she will do it again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

she will be weak and strong and bold and shy and mean and nice and everything in between.

she will grow. she will grow strong and tall.

and so will you.

and in ten years from now, when you run into her at the supermarket, she will ask about your marriage.

and while you’re there telling her about your wife, who is home with the kids, and your job, she will feel genuinely happy for you.

because she forgave you. she forgave you for walking away and she forgave herself for ever thinking she wasn’t good enough.

she will have realized by then that sometimes life will give you somebody just to watch you break when it takes them away from you.

and she will be okay with it.

and so will you.

but, she will walk away without telling you about her life because she doesn’t want you to hear it in her voice that she still remembers your birthday, and that birthmark on your right shoulder.

and that ten years ago, she had hoped you would run into somebody else and told them all about her being at home with the kids.