They act like they can see me,
But they don’t,
Even if it’s plain on my face.
I say I’m an open book,
Black and white,
But like a ghost,
All the writing in between the lines is invisible.
The ghost,
With the most baggage a living dead guy can have.
Sometimes I wish I could visit the netherworld,
Say my name three times and unleash chaos.
Quiet as a mosaic,
Eerie as a graveyard,
Being stone cold as a tombstone would be resting in peace.