Ghost

What's left of me is a ghost of who I used to be.

I'm crying as I write this because of self pity? Remorse?

There's no reason to be crying... And yet my heart doesn't believe me.

I repeat these words to myself over and over again but nothing happens.

I'm a ghost who fears being forgotten, who fears goodbyes, who fears herself.

All around me all I see are people who say one thing but think another.

I come to wonder if anyone I know is true to me, honest, pure.

I'm not without sin or without error myself, but sometimes I wonder.

I used to be so confident and strong, and now I'm a baby,

crying all by myself feeling bad for myself because no one else will,

no one else will feel bad for me, because they're all having too much fun.

I feel isolated and without a path to go about following.

I was fine, lonely, isolated, but okay, without a tear in my eye.

I work like an ox on a field with a plow attached to its back,

hoping that by giving myself little room to think I won't feel the pain.

I thought that working myself harder than ever would make me numb.

Up till now, I thought I was a part of a group, belonging and loved.

Now I know differently; I was nothing but something to laugh about to them.

This is my fault though, no one but my own damn fault.

Kimmy