Maybe we can be ghosts

When we die
Float around the backs of stars
And forget about God for awhile
Waiting
We can be specters passing
Through the night
Cool and calm and
Free

But these eyes only witness
A damned repetition in which
A similar scene replays
Watching one’s self expire
At the turn of midnight
Every hour

Maybe we’re all ghosts
When we die
Some of us just learned how to
Shut up
And lay around like when
We were on our deathbeds
Or in front of the TV
And see heaven
For what it really is

Maybe ghosts are just
the world's memories
Slipping the collective unconscious
The creases in the mind
The primal instinct
Believing only what we see
and discarding that which
we cannot

So says the blind man...

...When we’re old
And when I die first
If I haunt your dreams
Tell me to go away
Hopefully I’ll listen
But who knows what
State of mind I’ll be in
Or if I'm just a well-placed replica

Or maybe I’ll finally let you know
The ghosts are more alive
Than we ever were
More alive than the love
Given, taken
or mutual

Until then
I'll keep my own peace of mind away
From the dark haunted walls of
This mansion