I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.
Questioning my sanity,
If you will.
You don't realize what you've done,
Do you?
You don't see what you've done.

Remember the time
You told me about when you were almost struck by lightning.
And then,
The results.
Your superpowers,
As you called them.
You'll never know how thankful I was for those
As the years went by.

You told me about the ghosts.
The little girl and boy
Who came to you for help.
She died in a barn,
That used to be in your backyard I think,
And needed your help.
She was your favourite, I could tell;
You talked about her a lot.
She slept in your bed sometimes, you told me.
But you couldn't communicate with her,
So you couldn't help her.
And that was that.

I told you about my ghosts.
My grandparents I've talked to,
And whatever evil is living in the guest room.
How my cats slink around my house
Like they're still alive.
Like the sounds I hear for no reason
And no explanation.

You envied me for that.
That I could hear them.
Because all you could do was see.

We were the only ones who believed each other.
Even when we hated each other,
And that was a long span of time,
We could still bond over this.
When no one else listened,
We did.
We were the only ones who understood.

I guess it's obvious enough that the phrase
"I see dead people"
Was tossed around a lot between us.
Because we could
And we knew it
And it scared us
And we loved it.

Until you stopped loving it.
And you claimed insanity.
You told me it was all in your head,
That you'd made it up
Because you're crazy.

So,
That's why  I've been calling myself crazy lately.
Because the only thing I trusted to understand me
Is telling me he's insane.
Who's to say I'm not the same?