When the world has exhausted me from continuously unresolved misunderstandings,
I retreat back to the inner workings of my mind and soul.

Trying to accept that even though I wish to settle inside of strangers
That I am just not a being to be comprehended.

I must be just a ghost.
Barely visible,
A sound in the background,
A closing door,
A whisper in the room.

Making you wonder if you really heard something or was it just your imagination?

I must be a superstition.

I continue to pass through them, trying to reach a soul,
but I am not even on the same plain of existence as you.