Dear Ghosts: Haunt Me, Please

I remember the days when I was scared of ghosts

After watching a marathon of poltergeist movies

About hauntings in strange homes

My juvenile friends and I couldn't get to sleep

And we'd squeal at every creak creak

On the floor board

I'd sleep with a night light on

The one with Winnie the Pooh reading a story to Piglet

Yet I'd still lose sleep

I was so scared of the ghosts that were out to get me

Now I want the ghosts to get me

I don't even understand what I was scared of

I want ghosts to haunt my house

I want ghosts to transcend their world and show their white faces

Hell, I want poltergeists to mess my whole room up

Because, see, if ghosts don't exist

Then why should anything invisible exist, too?

What you see is what you know

But I don't see love, so how do I know it's there?

What if love is just a ghost?

What if "love" is what we label that chemical reaction in our brains that sparks fondness?

And if ghosts don't exist, do spirits exist? Souls?

If they don't, what's the point of it all?

Then life is just a soccer match with no goal posts

And your decisions are empty goals

And the soccer field is endless

And there really is no goal

If ghosts don't exist, then it's proof that this is it

It affirms the mundanity and terror

Of a worldly existence

All the people in the world

Are just a cycle of slaves to the earth

So you see, ghosts have to exist

For there to be love, spirits, for life to make sense

So please, ghosts of the other world, engage in paranormal activity

Write out threatening messages on my Ouija board

Pass through me 'til I'm chilly, so that I feel you

Do anything to make me believe in what isn't real

Comments

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Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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