I confer with the ghosts of who I used to be

Surrounded by books and broken dreams

And the laundry I should’ve folded last week.

They’ve got comments and questions 

A couple of suggestions

Who are you?

Why are you here?

What happened?

What’s wrong with you?

And I can’t answer 

‘Cause mine are the same


Constantly adapting to the world

As it crumbles around me 

Going through the motions

And creating new ghosts of me

Every day of the week.


I’ve left the cocoon of summer

And become an antisocial butterfly

Longing for humanity

And dreading humans

As Freddie Mercury tells me

“Spread Your Wings”

And fly away

To where?


I float, 

Adrift and alone in a sea of change

Yet it’s easier to be uneasy

On this raft


Than to sit in this sea with society

As we sink

While the musicians play on


I change like clothes

And the ghosts of myself

Pile up in the hamper

By the laundry, I should’ve folded last week.


I can’t find myself

Just the ghosts

Haunting and persistent 

Pressed between the pages of my memory,

Hiding behind the curtains of the windows to my soul.


And I should miss my friends

But “Out of sight is out of mind”

And I’m out of mine 

And tell myself I’m fine

While “Liar” plays in the background.