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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


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