Ghosts

I’m in love with your ghost and the way she takes care of me at night.

Your ghost is a collection of:

real memories,

                         trapped desire,

unruly longing,

                         unfinished love.

As my mouth proclaims to miss you, there’s an aftertaste of nostalgia that my mind recognises.

You no longer exist and still, I hug your ghost daily.

I am holding you back from the afterlife.

I would rather collect the broken pieces of our story and glue them back together with our love.

I want to keep the unhealed versions of each other, together. My heart grieves your absence, for she knows how much you would have loved the new me.

I’d rather weep with you, than feel the unruly pain that overcomes me when I think about the distance between us. We used to sit in each other’s souls.

I bathe daily in distorted realities and trails of ‘almosts.’

I wonder if  my ghost haunts you too. Whether I hang over you daily. Whether your mind returns back to the sound of my laughter when it seeks for comfort.

Keep haunting me. I deny you the afterlife so long as you continue to live in my heart.