Work Text:
there once was a girl who saw ghosts
not for superstition, pointless huffs of breath left behind by the dead
but those people fallen through cracks, left behind like scrap
i was the ghost she latched to,
a huff of cold breath before a hunk of ice
inconsequential, quiet, unnoticed
worth only what she could create, and what i could create was
temporary.
she didn’t see it that way,
“Inspiration is a lifetime, even if ice is not!”
she planted warmth in my heart
inhabited it the same place my Hope did.
i fell.
-
she took me down with ink
scrawled my worth across pages
the impermanent became permanent
i was content.
-
there once was a girl who saw ghosts
not just me, real ones
she trusted me enough to tell before i eventually became,
like all things do,
one of their number.
i fell harder.
-
...so did the world
into pieces.
there once was a girl who love ghost stories
but now the world was becoming one.
everything was temporary, this i had always known
but the shards of shattered peace dug into her,
and took root.
she worried,
and worried,
and despite my cold insides,
i worried too.
can’t lose Hope…
-
we’re both losing hope,
but i put on a brave face for her.
i tell her to document everything she can in this,
the end times.
maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
-
there once was a girl who loved ghost stories
a little too much.
-
there once was a girl who saw ghosts.
real ones. me.
and she has hell to pay.
there once was a girl who saw ghosts
not for superstition, pointless huffs of breath left behind by the dead
but those people fallen through cracks, left behind like scrap
i was the ghost she latched to,
a huff of cold breath before a hunk of ice
inconsequential, quiet, unnoticed
worth only what she could create, and what i could create was
temporary.
she didn’t see it that way,
“Inspiration is a lifetime, even if ice is not!”
she planted warmth in my heart
inhabited it the same place my Hope did.
i fell.
-
she took me down with ink
scrawled my worth across pages
the impermanent became permanent
i was content.
-
there once was a girl who saw ghosts
not just me, real ones
she trusted me enough to tell before i eventually became,
like all things do,
one of their number.
i fell harder.
-
...so did the world
into pieces.
there once was a girl who loved ghost stories
but now the world was becoming one.
everything was temporary, this i had always known
but the shards of shattered peace dug into her,
and took root.
she worried,
and worried,
and despite my cold insides,
i worried too.
can’t lose Hope…
-
we’re both losing hope,
but i put on a brave face for her.
i tell her to document everything she can in this,
the end times.
maybe that was the wrong thing to say.
-
there once was a girl who loved ghost stories
a little too much.
-
there once was a girl who saw ghosts.
real ones. me.
and she has hell to pay.
ghosts
the dead
left behind
the ghost she latched to,
inconsequential, quiet, unnoticed
temporary.
“Inspiration is a lifetime, even if ice is not!”
warmth
i fell.
-
she took me down with ink
scrawled across pages
impermanent became permanent
-
ghosts
me
i became,
like all things do,
one
i fell harder.
-
the world
in pieces
there once was a girl
everything was temporary
shards dug into her
and took root.
cold insides,
worried
can’t Hope…
-
losing
i put on a face for her
-
there once was a girl who loved
a little too much.
-
a girl who saw ghosts.
has hell to pay.