The ghost returns with a cold whisper
As the frost settles around my ear holes
And the words take a seat in the back of my frontal lobes
They play incessantly…
Be who you are
The ones that will love you will love you
The others will either follow or loathe you
But your soul should never incarcerate you
Still… I have one question
Are you going to spend your life
Floating aimlessly through the atmosphere
Like nothing else matters?
This matters, Right here, right now!
And it won’t always matter
But when it stops mattering
Or will you be the ghost
Floating through the atmosphere of the halls
Screaming in silence
For someone to acknowledge your weightless existence?
Then, will it even matter who you are?