I think there is a ghost living in my apartment.
I hear footsteps and creaks throughout.
('ear footsteps and creaks throughout/ear footsteps and creaks)
I’ll walk into the kitchen late at night, and things will be in new places.
Forks out of drawers, paper strewn about, electronics missing.

I think there is a ghost living in my apartment.
I don’t see the harm in it though. What could it possibly do?
I find myself wondering where it came from.
Did it always live here? Did it have another home?
What was its family like?
Did it have a family?

It took a long time for me to accept that it was here.
For a while I tried to deny it, but I ignored the signs.
Missing glasses, must have gotten rid of it.
My Cat would stare and meow at nothing. I’m just nervous.
Cabinets suddenly open, must have forgotten to close them.
I wrote each one off as a coincidence or a trick of the light or even just a mistake of my own.
But after a while it became too hard to deny.
I felt like I was following bread crumbs.
Like something wanted me to discover it.
Maybe it was lonely.
(Cadavers suddenly open, must have forgotten to close them.
I wrote each one off as a collaborator or a trigger of the light or even just a _ of my own.
But after a while it became too hard to deny.)

What was it like as a person?
When did it die?
I find myself thinking about it often. While staring into space.
Could I be looking right at it?
Does it look at me often?
We could be having silent staring contests without me even knowing.
(conversations without them even knowing.)
It feels like it wants something, but I’m having trouble identifying what it is.
Maybe it was lonely.