Ghastly

Uncategorized

Chills are reminders that something unnatural occurs, 
swells of coolness granted by the palms of the unseen— 
Who knows if you are shaking hands with the devil 
or kissing a sympathetic soul left at a metaphoric train stop. 
I hate being defined by my manners: 
washing my hands when they feel full of something invisible; 
letting my mind float into sleep, seeing faces; or summoning the courage 
to speak to an empty room. 

Raising the dead sounds as difficult as rearing a child, 
but what if it was as simple as acknowledging the natural elements? 

Energy doesn’t just…phase out; It must dissolve into a lesser conscious world. 

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