Ghostly
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As you sit up A few rows forwardOr a few rows backThere is always someone watching shylyAdmiring you...Wishing to talk to you...
Night.
A living death.
In my chest and
In my head.
Unconcious,
I lay in wake.
Sifting through my dreams
Until you arrive.
I don't know you.
We have yet to meet.
