New Ghosts

I'm already dead
But I'm a cute ghost like Casper
They don't really make cute lady ghosts, do they?
They are all moaning like Myrtle
Or haunted and roaming on moors
I'm a new type of faustina
The kind you can drink a beer with
And as you watch the liquid froth
In my translucent stomach
We can talk about all the places
You have yet to travel
I can't come with you, though.
I'm tied here to the place I died.
Don't worry, I'm fine here
Watching it all work itself
Around my shimmering form
I'll still be waiting when you get back
And we'll talk about how alive you felt
Learning new ways to say, "It tastes delicious."