when I'm scared, I think of you

when they said to be dreaming
of all the fairytales
somewhere
and sometimes
can it feel like I'm torching your house
can it feel oh so like a search that should of been abandoned years ago, but I know I don't care
how many dreams I can't remember
or how many fairytales I choose never to forget
and all those houses
I burned to the ground
just to create more ghosts
to haunt my dreams
awake
and asleep
on park benches
or when I found jesus stretched out on a hospital bed
can I tell you,
how much I want you to be my ghost?
The love of your charred and smoking residence
tells me to forget
what was then
and that this is now.