Tale for all my ghosts

We‘re safe enough to suffocate.
These walls are eating souls
by smothering the skin
until what‘s inside is leaking out.

We‘re already ghosts.
You never saw my purple hair,
and I don‘t even have a skin
because you never touched it.

When I am really happy
I think of crying on your shoulder.
And suddenly the pain is good
and I dream of being real.

I‘ll be furious with the world forever,
for everything it threw upon us.
All the words here in my head
would have been yours and always will be.

„How do you even know that I am real?“, my witch asks.
„Because I need you to.“
„Fair enough.“