Frosted Whispers 


​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…

Saying…

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?

Well… 

This matters, Right here, right now!

And it won’t always matter 

But when it stops mattering 

Will you? 

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? 

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