The Ghost

By Anson Wang

Time is in passing, notice the way it seeps and drips
Never quicker than it should, I wonder why 
We are shocked seeing its accumulation Perhaps it’s the proof
Of what we’ve already forgotten Or perhaps the time was more
Precious than realized But Truthfully, I’m caught
Valuing everything before and after it passes Perhaps it is the present
That doesn’t exist at all.

I wanted to be yours when I wanted to be good
I wanted to make you proud
It seems I want too much, I want everything I’ve ever dreamed
Even if my dreams will hollow me one day Such is the streak
That runs through me: I’m falling off this world
And I wanted to save you By becoming yours
To catch myself in Your Life and
Follow you out wherever you’re going I am
Never failing to find What I already know here
Under every layer I probe into
Even at their Depths
It’s like decimals, the further you go
The less significant it all is
But now, You’re in my way
And I’m marching straight through you
I know this feeling, I’ve been here before
If you are still intact in the end Who was
The ghost?

When I’m up late at night
Getting lost in temporary ordeals 
This old feeling of wanting to read life
Before it happens, I can’t keep up the pace Anymore
Maybe it will be good To get away from this framing
Hundreds of miles ahead Maybe I’ll be wrapped up once again
In something Excruciating And this moment would
Be a chore to summon And I’d forget the living past
As something gratuitous.