The Shrine

I am a ghost, seeking rest for my wandering soul, and I will haunt your house, love and support you until I find my own bones.

The Shrine

Ethereal, I float, wandering alone, no depth or height, no width, for that constrains me to a form, of which I am uncomfortable.

Let me in your house so I can haunt you, support you.

Distract me from the agonizing hollow of what was once my heart.

Until I find rest, until I find my grave, the place where they smiled and slaughtered me to the sounding applause that I met their expectations. I am a shrine.

If you see my reflection, staring after you, welcome me in and I will display for you who you are while looking for myself.

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