Ghost's Breath

Hit by a train and I’m still breathing: do ghosts draw breath? 
Maybe that’s why I’m still standing, it went right through me.


 I am a ghost. 


Can ghosts come back?


I’ll get my colour back, rebuild my heart and force it to beat; sing it back to life.
If there is still fire under the rubble I will find it, my ghost’s breath will help it live.


I know now it wasn’t only murder that unmade me, it was suicide too. 
There’s a note, it wasn't only written by you. 


But I will get my colour back and my heart too. 
And when I do it will beat for one not two.

60-0 in five months flat.

I breathed free air today, for the first time since you went away. For the first time in weeks I’m not forcing my lungs, I’m embracing the beats. I’ve found my fight; I’ll prove me right, that you lost the chance to be golden that night. I won’t always be wearing a smile, and I won’t be looking your way for a long long while, know I’ll be missing you to death but I can’t sing if I keep holding my breath. Blue in the face is no way to be, and somewhere inside what’s left in my chest in know I have more to offer than you saw in me. So this is it, not calling it quits just speaking my piece, and leaving it you fate to weigh. It hurts when I think and it’ll sting and burn when the memories churn and rise from the depths to take me by surprise. And when I remember the looks that were lies know that hot tears will sting my eyes. But I’ll keep loving you quietly; I would love out loud if you would let me.

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Five seconds ago we were dancing; miss a step and fall a mile. Next time I won’t rely on feeling, I’ll learn the steps like I should have. You gave it away at night, the way you lay I should have known. And the saddest part is that I won’t even try to hate you, because I’ve seen the way you work, I know there’s more than meets the eye.

Even as the glass holding the memories hits the floor, even walking out my bedroom door. Even while you call me baby and the gate clangs closed, even while your headlights disappear up the road…even while my imagination dose the rest. Even then in my head you’ll stay at your best.

And now I’m going to make my last effort, and you’re going to do your best to ignore it. I wish you’d been unfaithful, I really  do. Maybe then I could hate you for breaking me in two. I don’t think you’re as fine as you seem, and you seem just fine; but how am I to know? You hid inside yourself for all this time, I could be wrong again. I’ll carry this under my smile; it’ll live inside my laugh. And if my deductions were incorrectly deduced, congratulations; I’ll turn out just like you.