Just a Ghost

You’re just a ghost. 
A faded, sepiatone outline
of what was, and now isn’t. 
You’re just a chill down a spine. 
A prickled hair. 
A soft, hollow reminder of what used to be. 
You’re just a ghost. 

Swimming in the grim ether
you try to find your friends. 
But all you find are artifacts 
of a life you used to know. 
You’re just a ghost. 
Phasing phantasmal 
through walls that never were
still looking for your friends. 
They’re not like you. 
They don’t know that they’re already dead. 
They don’t know, they’re just ghosts. 

Like notes of a gentle ballad
carried on a cradling ocean breeze
your voice is but a distant melody. 
Faint, yet haunting. 
And you wonder, in your spectral haze, 
“Do they still remember me?” 
After all, you’re just a ghost.