Can't stop thinking abt ghost being told he should "get a hobby" alot in response to his obsession with his job, so he starts attending slam poetry nights at the small café near his flat.
Ghost, who has no way to express the sheer pain and agony he's been carrying for years and years, is finally introduced to all these different ways to say "I'm hurt".
Ghost coming sitting on the curb outside the café that night ans scrawling the words that have been sticking to his heart for decades now "I am angry before I am alive"
Ghost attending night after night, shyly introducing himself to poets and talking to them about their prose. Maybe one day having the confidence to share his own. Baring his soul to a room of half-strangers in a way he never really could in the military.
