lifeless old notions and long dead ideas dog my steps I cannot shake them off I drag out those sad old fossils to salt my wounds on lonely nights I believe in magic because I’m a child but I believe in ghosts because I’m aged ghosts are our unfinished business we haunt ourselves always and everywhere with the spectres of things that happened and the spectres of things that didn’t even dreams are wraiths that pursue us in our sleep in the night my ghosts have voices they tell me I’m a ghost too that I carry ghosts within me I am empty of everything save my ghosts my head is a haunted house and ghosts my hollow companions
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