You are a spirit that sprung out of a chance encounter. It’s curious how I’m the only one to see you when we both float in circumstances shared by many others. That’s why all I could make out are pieces that never fall into place. But what I do know is this; we are the same you and I, ghosts, bound to empty husks forever playing out an unfinished score, a song carrying a hollow tune that never reaches past the twisted note seated next to finality. Yet somehow, very much like an echo that can’t be ignored, yours overpowered mine and it pierced through the anonymity that we anxiously protect. And now that is all that resounds in the haunting where I subsist.
It saddens me to see your beautiful form in unrest, drowned in violent waves that incessantly crash against an unmoving cliff. Yes, I tried to pull you out of your desolation but when I did, a blink was all it took for my hand to easily fly through yours. I knew what was coming for we are numb creatures who would rather spin a broken record than yield to the mended piece. But if your absolution is my song’s meaning then I'll find a way...
I have fallen mute to the world but it matters not because no man will ever find reason why a ghost means to touch a ghost.
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