My Ghost Poem by Donna Dolorical

Remember the nights
When I'd hidden in plain sight?
You wouldn't, of course
That's the point,
Your eyes were always open wide.
Well tonight mine's closing
I'm just really tired
I can still see you there
But actually, you've turned into air
And if I stare too long
I tend to wonder
Maybe the pain was all in my head
Which isn't any better, I guess
Flesh and blood may be cumbersome
But ghosts are terribly heavy to carry
So air is never fine.
And it's not, really.