They tell us ghosts are restless,
drifting through shadows,
trapped between worlds
but what if they are guardians,
lingering not out of torment,
but love?

What if the creak in the hallway isn’t to scare you,
but to remind you youre not alone?
What if the chill in your skin is their hand pressing gently,
a shield you cannot see?

They wander, but not lost.
They wander to follow us,
to stand where we cannot look,
to fight battles we never knew brushed so close to our lives.

And maybe that’s why we dream of them because while we sleep,
they’re still awake,
keeping the night from breking us.

Ghosts are not always grief.
Sometimes,
they are love
that refused to leave