Ghost
Words are thrown like weapons and rocks but silence kills me most. Eerie whispers bring me to tears. Face to face with demons. Blinking under the blinding light though shadows consume me within. Wuthering storms clasp at my feet whilst the sun feels so close I can reach it. But there is no balance once I am left to sink. Yes, people can make ghosts out of people, but how can you kill me when I am already dead.
By: Muffins (MffinsOnDaHous)