(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2011 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisisnomythThere’s a ghost girl in the grass.
Everyone knows about her, has seen her in their passing. They sometimes try and talk to her but no one knows if she can actually speak. her words might have died with her body, no o9ne can be sure.
They wonder if she used to be a forest girl, if she’d been a tree or a dear of a fox or something else they never knew of. Her forest is gone, torn down in the name of progress and what’s left is this patch, this field where the trees used to be.
When some people speak to her, they apologize.
The forest girls are dwindling in number these days, everyone knows that. There are places to protect them, people are fighting for them but it’s hard. The world people yearn for progress and somehow, in that, the forest girls are lost. The sea girls, the field girls, the lake sky and tree girls.
The boys too, all those ghost boys on the highway and haunting houses that don’t belong to them. They’re lost, looking for a place to call home again.
These days ghosts are more and more common, becoming a part of the landscape like trees or grass. Everyone knows of a ghost, has seen or talked to one and so the girl in the field is nothing new, she’s barely remarked upon.
But sometimes, every now and then, someone wonders about them, apologizes maybe, or just says hello because the ghosts deserve at least that.
Everyone knows about her, has seen her in their passing. They sometimes try and talk to her but no one knows if she can actually speak. her words might have died with her body, no o9ne can be sure.
They wonder if she used to be a forest girl, if she’d been a tree or a dear of a fox or something else they never knew of. Her forest is gone, torn down in the name of progress and what’s left is this patch, this field where the trees used to be.
When some people speak to her, they apologize.
The forest girls are dwindling in number these days, everyone knows that. There are places to protect them, people are fighting for them but it’s hard. The world people yearn for progress and somehow, in that, the forest girls are lost. The sea girls, the field girls, the lake sky and tree girls.
The boys too, all those ghost boys on the highway and haunting houses that don’t belong to them. They’re lost, looking for a place to call home again.
These days ghosts are more and more common, becoming a part of the landscape like trees or grass. Everyone knows of a ghost, has seen or talked to one and so the girl in the field is nothing new, she’s barely remarked upon.
But sometimes, every now and then, someone wonders about them, apologizes maybe, or just says hello because the ghosts deserve at least that.