Few of my million daily thoughts, stories, and poems survive the battles in my head and make it to this blog.
Help me give them a louder voice.
(All poems are written by me, you can call me Zee)
The ghost floated away from the body, and the soul she decided to go the other way. As their person had his fill of oxygen and experiences on this realm. Ghost wandered seeing this old town a new. “I’ve never seen this mountain or those trees before.” Thought Ghost to himself. Colors were brighter and smells were stronger. Time seemed like an ocean with many rivers attached. Ghost’s person was a child… no a man… no no he was a fetus with a plan. Ghost saw the life he’d been through and many others plain and clear, he thought it was his overactive imagination… could this be a memory of what he’s never dared to dream?
Soul she was not so attached to this realm, actually…she wasn’t attached to any realm. She swept between screen after screen of what life could have been. She was heading upwards with purpose and she was not to be stopped. Soul was so light, much lighter than her other… her what you can call “brother” … what you can call Ghost.
Soul always hated that they were mistaken for each other, her and her “brother”. Their person never knew them fully, sure he stared at the mirror many times, before dates, after long days and sometimes just to appreciate his body. He saw Ghost more than he saw her… and she felt left out most of the time. Although; come night time she journeyed as far as she could without breaking the golden thread. Oh, how she hated that golden thread. The big Voice always reminded her of the golden thread. “200,000 miles left on your thread.” It would say. “You must slow down or you’ll stray.” It reminded Soul.
Soul was respecting the golden thread as much as she could, but today she’s finally free. No more threads holding her back, she flew as fast as she could. Oh, how good it feels to not worry about that golden thread. Even though she was sure of her person’s departure, she hesitates at times while flying. A memory of that thread haunted her head until the Voice says loudly: “You are free, come back to me and tell me all you have learned.”
Ghost was there for the funeral, he was confused of why the adults cried like children. He flinched before going through a wall, then he made a point to go through every wall in the funeral home. He scared a few cats for laughs then he respectfully stood by his person. Ghost wondered who that person is now, now that his sister, soul, is gone. Who is this person laying in that coffin? People came close, too close, thought ghost. They told stories that Ghost remembered fondly. At that moment Ghost insisted on going back to the body but soul had left… no strings attached, he remembered.
Ghost thought, I need to find the Other… our third maybe then I can convince Soul to come back. Ghost thought he needed a tailor with golden threads!
Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things.
I am Zee