A Ghost Between

Hair unkempt.

The ends don't lay as cleanly as they used to.

Or perhaps I've just stopped caring.

Sallow grey beneath raven eyes.

The darkness hides behind.

Perhaps once upon a time

I might've painted on a face.

But I don't have the heart

To wear two masks.

And the practiced smile

Is enough of a chore to maintain.

I've had younger days

When hope thrived to grow

Beneath bright eyes.

When it was the lips I painted

And not the smile itself.

Those days are long since past.

The red is now a different shade.

A shadow has been cast.

I am not as old as I will be someday

And not as young as I once was.

I am a ghost between

The innocence and freedom of youth

And the wisdom and grace of old age.