If you're a ghost regularly passing through the walls of my bedroom
I bet you might have seen myself wearing my most honest clothes, skin and face
For countless times you may have noticed me lying on my bed wide awake beyond 3 A.Ms
Flipping from side to side trying to doze off my head
Or perhaps busy facing my seemed-to-be only unwavering companion tapping on its screen
I supposed you have heard me singing in my modulated voice the songs I get hooked onto listening
I also reckon that you should have tried to get a peek on the movies I am watching just so you could find out wether I'm viewing things about you and your fellows
I'm sure you could have numerously caught a glimpse of me leaning my back againts the pillow
sliding off page to page of the books that served as my runaway routes from all this reality on some silent evenings
Certainly I know you have stopped and stared at me for some instances whenever I sobbed to my own hearing while hugging the pillow as if its the only thing I have
Making you wonder what is wrong with me why I make rain inside this darkened, ceilinged room
I believe you must have gazed at me the times I'm having night terrors in my sleep
While I hardly fight to move a limb or to scream a word
I think out of your curiosity you have looked at me as I smile and laugh even when nobody's visibly around with me
If you're a ghost regularly passing through the walls of my bedroom
I bet you must know me better and deeper
Than the person I am outside my personal bubble