Open doors, yet stuck inside.
Come and go, I don't care.
But the pain,
an unknown ache in me
weighs heavy.

Like a ghost wandering lost,
I move with invisible wound.
Some days it hits harder,
Just like last night.
Just like today.

This lonely, silent hollow ache,
I don't know why I push everyone away.
It’s just another day.

I can't relate, I can't explain.
Nothing feels real outside,
Nothing makes sense inside,
It's heavy.

I wish I could figure it out.

I don't owe my soul to the boogeyman
or a seductress in a wild bikini  
just a loner with a peekaboo mind  
with a jalopy as my chariot
a shop full of books  
and my cat Mr. Thingamabob  
but the air is clean
and the conversations are free  
if you will only try to communicate
with a ghost in aisle three

The shadow in the mirror reminds me not of myself but of my father.
He stands behind my mother’s chair like an advisor to the queen.
He does not poison her mind or plan treason against her throne.
Her tyranny extends to the invisible shackles on his long-broken mind.

The ghost in the mirror reminds me not of myself but of my brother.
Though he has died, he never passed on to the better place he deserves.
His phantom lingers in my mind, trying to reach out and touch this plane.
He can’t feel the tender dew on the soft grass unless he uses my hands.

The witch in the mirror reminds me not of myself but of my sister.
Though she has left the inner coven, she is still trapped under her oath.
Her spells of cord-cutting and separation can only do so much against it.
As her mistress sleeps, her work to free herself from her bond does not stop.

The monster in the mirror reminds me not of myself but of my mother.
She controls our movements like a puppet on a string, never stopping.
There is no freedom to reign over my or my family’s actions but hers.
Her little marionettes may never break free from the suffering they endure.

Anger lingers here.
Like a ghost,
She haunts these hallways.

Anger lingers here.
Like a specter,
She hides in the shadows.

Anger lingers here.
Like a poltergeist,
She possesses my limbs.

Anger lingers here.
Like a phantom,
She screams in the dead of night.

Anger lingers here.
Like a wraith,
She whispers in the silence.

Anger lingers here.
Like a shade,
She wanders aimlessly.

Anger lingers here.
Like a spirit.
She must be set free.

I believe in saying things out loud
To me a thought is an incomplete bargain
Unsealed until invited
to the world of the living
With a voice, a sound, even a gesture will do
That’s why it’s paramount
To say, ‘look it hurts right here”
To say, ‘it’s been 11 years, yet to me you’re always in the next room, through the door past the kitchen’
Do not let your grief bother the ghosts
A thought unsaid lives with the phantasma
And one shouldn’t haunt more alive than dead

-UV

you’re the ghost
of the younger you
as you float
down the stairway

catch your eye
you crack a smile
we sit and pine
for a while

down the drain
pour the coffee that
we didn’t drink
too cold

hear the girl
in the stereo
singing tunes
from long ago

don’t lie to me my friend
are we really at the end?
should’ve dressed for the event
but i know we’ll meet again

i’ll wear something black and red
you’ll apply my favorite scent
and if still we both forget
then i’ve loved you ’til the end

i’m the wraith
of the younger me
as i joke
to see you laughing

hear the boy
on the radio
as your gaze
meets the door

don’t lie to me my friend
are the waves upon the sand?
they may rip you from my hand
but i know we’ll meet again

and i’ll wear my darkest cape
you’ll put on your finest lace
and if still we should forget
then i’ve loved you ’til the end

Consider this:
at its core, a ghost is typically described as little more than a restless spirit.
Given this description, it's not too much
of a stretch of the imagination
to suggest that you don't have to die
to be a ghost.
After all, things change every day.
It would be concerning if you didn't feel lost or anxious at some point. The question then becomes "what do you do if you feel this way?" The answer: remember who you are and all it took to get you to where you are today.

"Love,
Should be a wonderful thing,
It's an impossible thing,
So many people in ya' contacts,
Its an optional thing,
The Audacity of this generation slumping out thing,
This a when in doubt thing,
No conversation,  never started,
I'm cool with it,
Not having a connection is my expertise,
I need another drink for all the women that I didn't waste time on,
Say you wanna' be friends but still ghost me,
Have you no shame.."

(Full poem below)