In the darkness I am alive.
But then there comes morning.
Girl
There is a boy in the woods.
I can feel it, even though I don't know why.
I thought I could see him in the edges of the darkness. But the dark is growing, and soon everything will be quiet.
I wonder what he is waiting for. Who is waiting for him.
Everyone is waiting for something.
Even, me.
I can feel it, even though I don't know why.
I thought I could see him in the edges of the darkness. But the dark is growing, and soon everything will be quiet.
I wonder what he is waiting for. Who is waiting for him.
Everyone is waiting for something.
Even, me.
Ghost.
The dark is like a sickness. Alive and growing, pulling everything into it's grasp.
I sit with my back to a tree.
The shadows spill across the ground, their edges unfinished, unclear. I can't tell where the forest ends, and I begin.
The forest is a giant inkstain, spreading and the trees look like blotches, tangled in the darkness. They impression of letters, a message someone couldn't quite say.
But there is a light. I stand and see it is coming from the house across the clearing.
If you look closely, it looks like someone is standing at the window.
I sit with my back to a tree.
The shadows spill across the ground, their edges unfinished, unclear. I can't tell where the forest ends, and I begin.
The forest is a giant inkstain, spreading and the trees look like blotches, tangled in the darkness. They impression of letters, a message someone couldn't quite say.
But there is a light. I stand and see it is coming from the house across the clearing.
If you look closely, it looks like someone is standing at the window.
Girl.
Inside, it is warm. I stand by the window, and watch the darkness grow.
The colour I saw before, is gone. The rest of the light is fading too.
The trees are black, their branches conspiring, reaching towards the darkening sky.
Sometimes I think the forest holds secrets.
The colour I saw before, is gone. The rest of the light is fading too.
The trees are black, their branches conspiring, reaching towards the darkening sky.
Sometimes I think the forest holds secrets.
Ghost.
The clouds are being swallowed by the sky. They blow, and somehow I feel as if I'm drifting too.
I stand in the trees, surrounded by branches like a million arms, reaching. They are the only ones reaching for me.
I close my eyes, and I swear I can almost hear them whispering.
Almost.
I stand in the trees, surrounded by branches like a million arms, reaching. They are the only ones reaching for me.
I close my eyes, and I swear I can almost hear them whispering.
Almost.
Girl.
The sky is white today, like someone has washed away all the colour. Almost like someone is trying to forget.
I stand and watch the sun fade, around the trees outside my house. As the light dies, it grows colder. It's kind of cold that you can feel in your bones.
I turn to go inside, but as I do I see a flash of colour in the dark. Colour that doesn't belong there, not now.
For a moment I think I see someone standing in the trees, but then he is gone.
Everything is disappearing.
I stand and watch the sun fade, around the trees outside my house. As the light dies, it grows colder. It's kind of cold that you can feel in your bones.
I turn to go inside, but as I do I see a flash of colour in the dark. Colour that doesn't belong there, not now.
For a moment I think I see someone standing in the trees, but then he is gone.
Everything is disappearing.
Ghost
I refuse to fade.
I am not gone yet, but I feel I am somewhere in between. In between, the space of the living and forgotten, and I don't know which side I want to choose.
I am stuck, between nowhere, and somewhere.
And I still don't know why.
I am not gone yet, but I feel I am somewhere in between. In between, the space of the living and forgotten, and I don't know which side I want to choose.
I am stuck, between nowhere, and somewhere.
And I still don't know why.
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