you're just a ghost roaming these halls
that i don't walk down anymore
my favorite crypt keeper in a vacant mausoleum
they'd call it haunted if it was ever anything at all

maybe you're in the dust that
shakes from the old books,
coating these lungs of mine and
staying with me after i leave
or maybe you're the wax on old candles
waiting for the flame to reignite
so you can melt into a puddle all over my floor