To The Ghost

This is to you, the ghost.
Yes, I said you, oh ghost. This is to you, who has haunted me with your precious, childlike face; warm and quiet, drifting about in my memory like the sea foam which floats in and out from the shore.
This is to you, and your gentle eyes, blinking, crying, sighing, searching, yearning, loving, laughing, and burning, and so, so, so incredibly alive. This is to you, and your soft mouth, held tight, then trembling slightly, then opening in a cry for that which you so desperately seek to find.
Yes, this is to you, searcher. This is to you, dreamer. This is to you, lost, angry, sad, confused, uncertain child, covered in a blanket for a body, which hides you from the eminent storms around you.
This is to you, who was truly something. This is to your intangible form, kissed by mist, drifting through the darkness, searching for that place again. This is to the perpetual smile plastered on that doll-like face, when basted in rouge and lined in coal black, and the twin beacons of light which reach out across the horizon and grace everything they settle upon with a feeling of wonder.
Yes, this is to the ghost, who alone has lived and grown. The ghost, who, adapting to that loneliness, continues to burrow deeply into his soul, hiding away in fear. To the ghost, who, seeing the light, reaches out, and whose fingertips only meet the chill steel of his self-made prison. The ghost who watches from deep inside, flickering like a dying flame in his dark eyes.
Please don't give up.

I know you have no guidance. You're alone. You're not sure what the future holds.
Ghost, it's all valuable; your idealism, your youth, your starry skies. Don't allow yourself to be packed up in a box and slipped into a dark corner, never to be heard or recognized again. It won't end well.
Don't ever let him forget that you are a part of him.
Don't ever settle for being just a ghost.

-The Hopeful Believer