glass ghost

Ghostly Shadow Journey – Part II (compact)

Static in my teeth, I taste the snow of burned-out halos

Numbness in my nerves like every thought been repo’d by the shadows

Every prayer I mailed came back return to sender, ash-stained

Letters spelled my name in glitch-font, holy code half-drained

Woke in a glass lung, breathing secondhand confessions

Veins hum Morse code, looping addict-made obsessions

Wallpaper’s a shrine of dead reflections on repeat

Past lives pacing in a circle, dragging chains around my feet

I tried to bargain with the silence, signed my doubt in black ink

Promised I would feel again if I could forget to think

But the contract was a mirror, and the mirror wore my face

With a smile like a tombstone that refused to leave its place

Candles melt in reverse, wax climbs back up the wick

Time stutters in the corner like a scratched tape click

Every heartbeat overdubbed with choirs humming out of tune

I’m a sermon with no language, echo trapped inside a room

So I drift half-dead, half-found, in the undertow of sight

Where the grief turns pixels red and the angels glitch in white

I thought I carved escape when I cut my own release

Now I orbit the same exit like a halo made of grief

The ghostly shadow’s hungry, but it’s wearing all my skin

I’m still hunting for a doorway carved with “you can start again”

If redemption is a language, I keep choking on the keys

Trying to spell a future out of haunted memories

Floors hum like hospital lights, buzz of unconfessed relapses

Pills line up like rosaries, each bead a borrowed passage

Scriptures printed on prescriptions, small print, holy lies

Side effects list every demon I keep hidden in my eyes

I took communion with a capsule, washed it down with phantom rain

Now my conscience plays in slow-mo, monochrome and coded pain

Black Lodge corridors inside my chest, red curtains scream

Carpet made of scar tissue, seams ripping at the seams

Shame hangs like an IV bag, drip of old mistakes

Every drop another scene where I confused God with my snakes

I crowned my shadow sovereign, let it tax my every thought

Now I’m bankrupt in the spirit, paying interest on the rot

So I drift half-dead, half-found, in the undertow of sight

Where the grief turns pixels red and the angels glitch in white

I thought I carved escape when I cut my own release

Now I orbit the same exit like a halo made of grief

The ghostly shadow’s hungry, but it’s wearing all my skin

I’m still hunting for a doorway carved with “you can start again”

If redemption is a language, I keep choking on the keys

Trying to spell a future out of haunted memories

Somewhere between relapse and revelation,

I realized the cage and the key share the same metal.

The mirror that called me god

is the one I have to shatter

just to remember I was only ever human

pretending to be a ghost.