KIND OF

I am so cold I have nothing left to hold except this connection to the dead, for I have walked among them many times before, and my name is now etched on their hallway doors. I was told never to speak of the truth you saw while you had your brief stay. It's like honor among thieves, and it will break our law.

It's amazing the stories I now carry inside the library of my mind. I keep going back to the pages where I did my wrongs out of rage, and now that I'm alive again, I'm killing that hate and considering everyone a friend until they are not.

This is nothing like who I once was. I've turned from a pig into a wolf with the heart of a lion and am no longer falling from the places I once roamed with higher powers on my side. I know that I'm never alone. I can pick up the phone and be connected to the other side

I am a ghost hiding in my shadows because the things that I see here on earth are harder to explain like murder, hunger abuse, and emotional pain, and until it ends, it will continue to rain.