the ghost

my apartment is cold. every time i step foot in here i want to shower a million times. i want to scrub all the filth off. i want to wash all the sins off. i want to feel warmth, baby, i want to feel some kind of fucking warmth again. i want to scrape the guilt off. but you can't. everything is a ghost in this apartment. i am a ghost. the light is making this shadow grow. i am walking around with great shadows. i am suffering silent, pale ghost white and shivering in sweaters. i am drowning in tears on satin pillows. i am eating art for breakfast, lunch and dinner. my last day in paris was raining and i walked the seine and no one noticed me crying. you can become a ghost over night if no one is watching.