I am a ghostyhead.
Transience.
Unfeeling
Passing through walls
Haunting
A sleepless forever
A continuous slumber
Ethereal
whether I want to be or not.
Tragic and beautiful
On earth as it is in heaven.

He sees right through
My ghostyhead
Sees the details of the wall behind me.
Sees my eyes that do not see him.
Sees my ghostyhead in
Another world.

He feels my cold when we do not sleep
Pretending that I am real
And here
When I am just only
A ghostyhead.

He knows my presence
Is more a haunting
and less a blessing.
They all came
Far and Long
To witness the ghostyhead
But they could not see
The ghost that haunts him
Only he sees and feels and knows
Ghostyhead is here.

And so without finality
A permanent purgatory
Without my goodbye
He slowly fades
And Exits.

So he says
“Lord,
help my poor soul.”