no one believed in ghosts
until we realized everyones transparent
no one holds on tighter
than when they realize
they have to let go
but the terrifying part
is that im not sure
if ive ever been held
my hands are made of smoke
my heart is caged vapor
im reaching
for so many people
but im a phantom
made of lies & half truths
how can i be honest with you
when i could never admit to myself
that im a ghost
im a real boy
i chant to myself
as my strings get pulled
a marionette made of fog
the realest ill ever be
is when im spouting
the opinions of others
out of my incorporeal mouth
tying together borrowed words
with my ethereal tongue
as if i have a thought process of my own
whats it feel like to be a ghost?
id say like hell
but ghosts dont feel much anyway
were all living on borrowed feelings
donated sympathy
& hand-me-down ignorance
an army of ghosts
that cant even defend themselves
we bash each other
with words that are almost
as hollow as our chests
no one knows anything
about themselves
but everyone knows everything
about everyone else
we see through each other
but we cant see ourselves
we try to reflect one another
but the vapor is always shifting
its maddening
being so shapeless
yet so defined
i want a body of my own
i want a place i can call home
i want to not be shamed for my opinion
i want to respect others fully
ghosts are meant to terrify
& let me be honest when i say
ive never seen anything as ghostly
as this generation of opinionated plagiarists

[holyoak]