I,
I’m a Ghost.
The shadow of dread.
A thorn in her side,
awake at night.
The Mare
inside of dreams.
A shift
at the shoulder
when she wakes up.
Tormented winds,
tear in the sail,
bleed in the eye,
stumble of words.
Hear the lonely cries,
calculate misplaced steps.
The ticking clock,
running through her blood.
Whispers
in corners
of her mind.
Fade through walls.
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 8:03 PM UTC
I,
I’m a Ghost.
The shadow of dread.
A thorn in her side,
awake at night.
The Mare
inside of dreams.
A shift
at the shoulder
when she wakes up.
Tormented winds,
tear in the sail,
bleed in the eye,
stumble of words.
Hear the lonely cries,
calculate misplaced steps.
The ticking clock,
running through her blood.
Whispers
in corners
of her mind.
Fade through walls.
”Ghost Hardware” — Burial
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