Everyone has Ghosts

Everyone has ghosts and they appear at random. Mine are constant, they hide in shadows and unlit spots; others are in plain sight and they walk constantly reside me.

They’re always there, always whispering barely hearable words, barely hearable intentions and ways on how their non-physical form will falter my step.

Every ghost is as similar as it is unique, each one with it’s own torment but a torment nonetheless, that is their purpose, that is why they’re here for. They are our own feelings in ocular representation, some feelings and emotions we need not only feel to comprehend, we also need to see them, either in our dreams or lucid delusion. One needs to understand them, accept them or destroy them before they destroy you.

But everyone has ghosts, those that wake you up late at night and those that don’t let you sleep; those that push your further form fear and those that pull you back; those that kill you or only make you stronger, more callous with thicker skin… senseless, emotionless; a stone.

Everyone has ghosts, I wish mine only stayed in my dreams.