I met a ghost
Her skull dressed in pale skin
Her tightly knitted lips tied with creases
Where guilt from binging hid upon

I spoke to a ghost
And I thought the wind could bury her words
like faded letters on typewriter keys
For her breathing was silent

I typed for a ghost
She did so in return too
Somehow that day I thought I heard her cry for help
And I wondered why people scamper at the sound of a ghost

I listened to a ghost
She told me lately she was a cold insomniac
She was skin and bones
But she thought she reeked of grease

I befriended a ghost
I always thought lights would guide her home
She never looked into my eyes
And maybe she is just as afraid to seek out the shine in my hollow sockets
As I am of losing track of her voice

I misunderstood a ghost
Ghosts do not fear the darkness around them
When the shadow in the water smiled back at me
Her sockets were hollow and
Every vein in my body were cold.

It’s funny how I thought I could save a ghost
When the priest chased after me with a sheath
And I thought that perhaps,
She met a ghost.