Dear ghost, I can feel your dripping emotions. Even though there is nothing silent about your world, I can hear the sound of your droplets. You want me to touch it or perhaps just hear it. You are tearing your cacooned feelings. Only then, from the cracks I shall hear all that you are dying to tell me.
You are accusing me. I am not the one that you have hoped for. But listen, that's the voice of your home.
You are so beautiful even as you wretchedly yell. I wish your home was too.
Yes, I am wrong yet I am that one person that you will talk about after I turn my back. I am the one you will envy. I am the one that will only be here for a while.
I will not stay long for I have my own home to make. I can heed to you no more.
Your tomboy