In the light, she (the ghost) can imagine that all is well (satisfactory, fine, alright or any other bland and banal word that can pass for "pretending to be good") and in accordance with the law time. It's when the sun begins to set and the moon embarks on its journey to rise, that worry invades her mind. This uneasiness starts as an irritation, an itch that cannot be reached (an unquenchable thirst). Gradually, this unease expands and mutates, fueled by anxiety and fear.


As she sleeps there might be stillness, maybe even calm. There may also be zombies, especially one in particular.

Loyal ghost
Devoted and faithful

To your face, he is right by her side
Behind her back, you’ve already been discarded
(abandoned by the curb)

Stab me in the back
I will caress your heart

Naïve ghost
Artless no more
(and for now) unending

they could take or leave you
so they took you, and they left you
how could they be casually cruel?

the invisible line connecting the (you to me) lessens
our rate of realization narrowing
apprehension cowers in the corner

(the ghost)
banished to this quiet state of consciousness
craving some insight
clenching for relation

but she knows
that when he goes
he really goes
and do you think you've made
the right decision this time?

the celestial sphere will crush your illusory equator at the ecliptic intersect

spring equinox bestows no added clarity
questions sprout
curiosities germinate

unrest rising in this ghost is apparent and undeniable.
the comforts of warmness is a farce.
far too saccharine sweet to be actual.

doesn’t this all seem too courteous?
(too formal, too polite)

she excavates for the truth faster than he can bury it
(Dracula, you never change)
there is more
she can sense it
it will not lie dormant forever

and the season to rise
is commencing

jaw locked, fists clenched
draw blood, fangs
feed Dracula feed

Jealousy has poisoned the well. Drain the infection and replenish again from an uncontaminated source (shiny, new and pure).

this is your gift ghost
and it is yours for the making
or the breaking

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'all's neighborhood

The ghost has born a second skin, a coat of armor (if you will).
It conceals (obscures) and shelters her from the elements.
These forces are wicked and unpredictable.
Underestimation got the better of the ghost.
This time, but never again.
Ever.

oh, can it be
the voices calling me
they get lost and out of time
i should've seen it glow
but everybody knows
that a broken heart is blind
that a broken heart is blind

He was just a man, then the vampire.

regrets collect like old friends
here to relive your darkest moments
i can see no way, I can see no way
and all of the ghouls come out to play

The vibrations reverberate deep inside
to a core
Pounding echoes chill the facade
Silence casts a shadow of doubt
perhaps remorse

A good ghost is alive in the moment, undead to the observant and reborn for the certain.

and every demon wants his pound of flesh
but I like to keep some things to myself
i am done with my graceless heart
so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

the anesthetic is wearing off
feelings recommence
praying to wake is futile
this isn’t a dream (or a nightmare)
welcome to the underworld
under and below
where nothing is nice
no one is pure

Folklore and legend precede the ghost. Mythology is eternally victorious.

Nothing is as it seems (or as it doesn’t)

this ghost is awake
devastatingly aware that this (after)life is no fairytale
happiness is a fabrication
ignorance is bliss
let the wretched bask in the glory of the truth

beg and plead for it
(ask and you shall receive) it
take it ghost
steal it
and swallow it all

The ghost prefers the burn of the sun over the sympathy of the shade.

Can I tell you a secret?

The ghost has a valentine this year. His name is Dracula. He is the vampire to chase (who has never been caught). Until now. His capture was not under duress, but a voluntary submission (a release, philosophical surrender into bliss). This is not defeat.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

she cuts the perfectly shaped heart from a sheet of blood red construction paper (the edges, slightly askew from the shake of her hand). it feels silly and maybe a little bit juvenile.

But she is in love, so she just doesn’t fucking care.

Attempts to penetrate this gable have failed

{Cocooned}
dracula and the ghost
undead under one roof
tucked away, deep in the recesses of the underworld
the coordinates of their location
hidden and undisclosed

{Upon Emerging}
they ascend to the peak and arrive at a summit
overcome by the vast (and immense greatness)
their hands join to leap over the edge
so that they might
take flight

If you want to kill the ______, ignore it.

my dear Ghost
it is time to admit

that the scab you continue to pick, re-open and make bleed will never heal until you cease
leave it alone and let it be
that scab cannot hurt you, but the scar will remind
you can only hurt yourself, Ghost

Zombie = Scab
Scab = Nonentity

insignificance is what this zombie’s edifice embodies
the presence is without importance because the Ghost says it is so
and so it is

Zombie = Nothing

You’re worthy if you want to be

The trust of a naïve ghost is Dracula’s most coveted collaborator
He is the artful lover, incompetent liar

Reckless indiscretion, the construction of the careless
Nothing is without consequence
There is no carpet to sweep under
No sand to bury your head

Gifting terms of endearment with the greatest of ease
His L-O-V-E without a second thought, blink of an eye

How many baby, sweetie and honey(s) can one vampire own in an afterlife?
If this is to be authentic, true
Validate our existence with indisputable, unadulterated reality
Eyes open wide (is this your first time?)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +

This may be (bad) prose and verse, flawed even
Yet in spite of it all, undeniably honest and that’s all anyone can ask for (right?)

no i won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me
i won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me
yeah i won't let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me
anymore

chaos seeking (zombie) junkies are neither nice nor pure
go away
you lose

+ + + + + + +

revenge filled ghosts only punish themselves
forgive him
ignore her

+ + + + + + +

repentant vampires atone for transgressions
relish in the bliss
of a crisis averted

once order has been restored

dracula sees the ghost (deepened and evolving)
sheltered inside his strong arms, she safe and he is sure
transformative newness intrigues and entices
desire for fantasy diminishes (baby, it’s obliterated)
this reality is a sensory explosion
and
__they
____both
_______just
_________want
____________more

zombie is the home wrecking whore
the ghost is a wife

so who is the fool now?

You broke all the rules and the rules burned you

Transparent zombies can only feign innocence for so long (do-wop, do-wop)
This ghost recognizes your game (better now than ever before)
Crying wolf over the milk you spilt is desperate (and sad)
Lesson learned maybe (maybe not)

Take pleasure in your self pity (drink it up, every little drop)
That's all you’ll get (no one else here has any for you)
You don’t deserve it (and you know it)

For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself

+ + + + + + +

the ghost can have everything her little heart desires (its right at her fingertips).
now she’s terrified the rug will be pulled right out from beneath her (to steal it all away).

+ + + + + + +

I know there's an answer
I know now, but I have to find it by myself

A selfish zombie is a thief. She doesn’t care what he thinks unless it’s about her.
Without empathy, the underworld is a solitary island.

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?

Knee deep and sinking

You’ve stepped in (it) and now you’re covered in (it)
Feels kinda dirty, doesn’t it?
Come clean Mr. Vampire
(You know you want to)

she's not just a plaything
she's flesh and blood
just like her man
if you want a do-right-all-day woman
do right, do right

I would rather be wrong, than live in the shadows of your song

the line between reality and fantasy is blurring at an unstoppable pace
further complicating the existing obstruction

+ + + + + + +

the ghost is (undead) and living in (or for) the moment
she revels in the ease of nostalgia
this ephemeral bliss will slip away
pacification swells

+ + + + + + +

if i was scared, i would
and if i was pure, you know i would
and if i was yours, but i'm not

The ghost is engaged in an affair and now finds herself in the most precarious of arrangements (nothing spoken, yet merely inferred).
They have ventured into uncharted territory.
These waters are exhilarating and incredibly irresponsible. (That’s why it’s fun)

what kind of fuckery are we?

The ghost consumes the lies because they taste just like jasmine nectar.
Thick and sweet, they coat her throat and mask the bitter.
It’s possible he is the snake charmer selling her the same elixir given to all the girls.
She is taking the risk, but isn’t sure why.
This serpent has venomous intentions and is biding his time before the strike.
Hypnotize the ghost first.
She’s asking for it.

the ghost swims in a sea of oddities and delightful confusion. she throws caution to the wind, abandoning her level head and common sense. on paper it doesn't make any sense, but hearts aren't made of paper.

and thank god for that.

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me