Spectator

I don't feel real.

Am I a ghost?

It’s cold but I don't shiver.

When the heat rises is when I tremble.

What I see looks like video.

I am a spectator.

 

She doesn't see me, which is strange.

She calls me her best friend.

I am watching her from the moon.

I have a telescope.

I don't think she has one, or even wants one.

I mailed her one, it should’ve arrived by now.

I guess it got lost.

Damn UPS.

 

She doesn't gaze at the moon.

She’d rather squint at the sun.

She always says she prefers the moon.

She lies.

She thinks it sounds better.

It definitely sounds good to me.

 

Sometimes we are on a lifeboat together.

We want to get off, we need a rescue.

At least we are sat together.

Now that she doesn't have the telescope I sent her,

I kinda wish we had died on that lifeboat.

Deathboat.

 

That’s too selfish of me.

She’s happy with her tiny binoculars down on earth.

She’s on a safari.

Her binoculars show her her lioness friends.

Her feet are buried in the ground like roots.

 

I’m not a ghost.

I'm something outside the barriers of existence.

No, that’s way too dramatic.

I'm a puppet, but the strings are in my hands.

I'm not a very good puppeteer.

 

I'm an excellent spectator.

I've worn glasses (spectacles) since first grade.

Come watch me watch you.

It’ll surely be a spectacle.

 

 

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