ghosts → txt

existing is exhausting.

being alive is oh-so tiring.

don't you agree?

i raise my hand,

my teacher doesn't call on me.

remember the old lady down the street?

that used to make brewed, black tea?

she doesn't hear

or

see me.

i drag myself to stay alive

but it gets harder and harder to survive.

i just wanna be happy and free,

buzz away like a little bumblebee.

as i lick off the delicious vanilla cake frosting,

i remind myself;

being alive, is oh-so exhausting.