Ghost

I thought I was whole but it was only a mask.

I thought I was complete but all I had was a shell.

I thought I was living but I was asleep the whole time.

I thought my life was real.

I thought I was real.

Then I broke.

And I woke.

And life is a nightmare that would never quite commit itself,

Pulling back just when it was right over the edge,

And the abyss grins like an invitation.

Love, it turns out, is optional. Not a given,

Like batteries they are not included but

you can't do much without it.

And the world tells me so much about what it should be

and how it should be and

none of them was meant for me.

Just a suggestion, really.

Nothing guaranteed.

In reality every thing, even love, is conditional,

Transactional.

Money helps buy happiness,

as well as the perfect conditions for love.

Survival is not the best mode to love, nor live.

I thought I was intelligent but it turns out

My brain is invisibly broken.

All that has gone wrong are both my fault

and not my fault.

My life is a poor imitation of a life.

I am a shell, I am a mask.

I am a ghost haunted

and haunting what could have been.