Be a Better Ghost

I have a secret if you want it.

It may sound nice to have a soul that is filled with vanity. To love yourself the most of all.

Sounds like a happy existence.

Maybe.

But there are no awards for these selfish hearts in the afterlife.

Just emptiness.

Be a better ghost.

The Poetess

The musk of her words

Brings tears

like rainfall.

A weeping rain.

Heart caged.

Pulling at the bite.

The poetess.

Destroyer of Content.

The Bringer of the Real.

Keeper of the Imprints of Hearts.

When her words fall,

the world aches.

And there is no thing as a better place or time.