Ghost

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Dear Diary,

I am a ghost. I don't know how long I've been this way, but It's my reality. 

I've smiled with people who can't see me. I've laughed and made conversation with shadows. Sometimes you forget that you can't be seen...or heard...or even thought of.

I like to watch people live -- questioning the actions and thoughts they feel. Oh, yeah, I can hear their thoughts. Vile and sweet...mixed into a bowl like candied poison. 

Sometimes I get lonely. It can get bad...like...really bad. Have you ever wondered why ghosts get so aggressive?... You probably know them as poltergeists. That's when we get so tired of being alone...something comes over us...

It's not like we see each other...no...ghosts are solemnly solitary, unfortunately. 

So...yes, there you have it...something I wanted to get off of my chest -- the nonexistent one.

I am an utterly, unfortunate, miserable, somber, quiet, insane, and hurt Ghost. 

You're welcome.

This poem is about: 
Me

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