Look at all this light you see

you might as well ask what’s wrong with me.

The days of bright go to dark with night,

I repetitively result in no appetite.

I scream to plea “what’s wrong with me”

Blank stares are all there is to see.

Only I can figure the only cause,

Is me myself for all I’ve lost.

My love my pride my self of bliss,

To try and kiss Id only miss.

What’s left of there for me to be,

When all I have are pieces of me.

From what I used to know and love

What made me higher above any drug.

All to look in the mirror I see,

is a stranger amongst all,

just a ghost to me.

These legs these thighs feel different every day,

The rolls, they come and go away.

The hair it flows and locks and curls,

to sing its own rhyme to dance and twirl.

These fingers are not afraid to caress and hold,

But how to grip when they’re crippling and cold.

The warmth I receive means very much to me,

Even more so when it comes from me to me.

To drain out every heart to appear,

Is selfish of me when I have nothing to bare.

For I am a ghost,

That’s all I see.

I can’t leash fear when I don’t belong to me.