Can you hear those noises? As we walk through these woods I keep hearing voices.

They sing of sorrow and death.

I guess we're not the only ones,

who love eachother until the last breath. 

I like talking with the ghosts,

they make the past seem so close.

They tell the most amazing stories,

and they seem to know all wisdom and glories.

Most of them seem sad, 

they all died here in the forests,

most deaths very bad. 

I guess they don't like to be reminded 

that they are stuck here.

That's why they grow angry when people scream at them in fear. 

I am kind to them and I help them with their sorrow,

but sometimes I feel the cold whisps of their essence 

reminding me they are literally hollow. 

It aches so much

because I want to help them,

but I can't.

Isn't it funny 

how instead of helping the living 

I want to help the dead?

I used to love the idea of falling asleep and never waking up. 

I guess I thought the only way to escape pain was death,

but I think deep down we all know that's not true.

After all, 

love is pain too. 

-e.c.