just sit around and smell the rotten roses?
bathing in the luxury of the living;
....especially the part which confirm our humanity...
the chance to be a broken one.
to feel how painful it is to breathe and not living;
to savor the invisible bleeding in our skin
to walk the thin line between life and not a life
to be moot.
There are times when we just feel so fragile. So vulnerable. A simple blow of wind could knock you off. Making you wither and shiver. Sending a longing signal to your lonely brain. Forming a sharp thought of happiness that manages to tear you apart and leave you bleeding to your death.
Being a ghost, I imagine, must be a lot like feeling fragile. You are transparent. You have no real power. Don't even bother to try to reach for help when you know they can barely hear you.
Because you. are. a. ghost.
Your fragility does that to you.
You are being reminded of your own humanity.
Of your own weak flesh.
Of your thick blood running in veins.
Of your soft skin grazing the air.
Of your lungs full of relief.
Of your heart beating in sync.
Of your brain muttering in silence.
Of your very existence on the surface of the Earth.
...just ran down my cheek.
Over something inexplainable.
A melted pot of anger, jealousy, hatred, selfish wanton, ego, and loneliness.
