All the Lives We Almost Lived

I’m missing the miracles that existed before 

I prayed on a star for the encore 

But with this drab recollection of the past 

I’m left falling through memories of glass 

I wished it and I missed it 

I couldn’t stand to glimpse it 

The patter of breathing ghosts 

Harmless without a shell to host  

I dive in deep, long before I gauge the depths 

I’ve died already a hundred deaths 

See in me the host-less ghosts

Wandering through an afterlife of almosts