A Sonnet About Ghosts

Cathy Shang


I am lying on my autopsy table finally numb in gentle apathy.

Doctors find me at last, hollowed and stable

as my body slumbers in atrophy.


I am cut open, from temple to chin and bright as I burned, bitter I bled.

To reforge beautiful, broken, scarring skin

stitch by stitch, a mosaic for the dead.


No, nobody hears the singing bones No, nobody sees the crying ghost And everyone thinks I’m all alone.

All alone, all alone, nothing but a host.


I am lying on my autopsy table

I hope to wake, if only I’m still able.




Cathy Shang is a junior studying in Shanghai. She enjoys creating digital art and animations and is very active in parliamentary debate.