Do the ghosts get sad when you give away their clothes Do they miss the ability to wear their favorite color Each word carries weight you said Adjusting the trajectory of your life one sentence at the time Do the ghosts die little by little as you move on Is it possible to transform a person into an idea and remain human Maybe each silence carries weight as well Do the ghosts haunt us or do we haunt them Do they watch the world leaving them behind like they never existed Do they even care Your friend, your sister, your parent, or your child Are unable to talk with you Do they even have anything to say Do they owe you a final word They watch you as you grow up they observe your tiny movements as you fall in love And hold your hand when you need them to Or at least these stories make the pain go away When the skies above me spoke I was told to listen But for now, only stillness is kind to me When the empty corridors seemed way too dark I was told to believe in the light But I only want to stare at you in the darkness Our words our pauses or our ideas cannot make the ghosts sad Because the invisible don't need colors to be beautiful And if I accept that I might remain human