Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Ghosted

Last time,

you took a souvenir,

as you left.

I was asleep,

eyes closed,

not seeing you steal,

segments of my soul,

sweet and serene,

wrapped in the brightest days.

photo of a woman sitting beside statue

You walked into the night,

no goodbyes,

no route back,

you go back,

to being alone,

barely alive,

staring at the small part of my soul,

sometimes,

wilted and wounded,

the brightest days,

banished.

photo of woman sitting on floor

You ask the air,

if I still miss you.

Nobody answers,

everything echoes.

You haunt me,

and I hate you,

until I don’t.

greyscale photography of woman wearing long sleeved top

I dared myself,

to hold my fate in my hands.

After midnight,

mixing drinks,

mixing emotions,

meeting the door,

under the moonlight.

woman wearing eyeglasses in grayscale photography

One shoe out,

before you awoke,

arms around the dream we had,

holding on,

to something you can’t commit to.

woman sitting while looking lonely

In the midst of missing me,

you sob,

in a circle,

alleviating your addiction,

for just a second,

before you fall back in,

and I forget myself.

I can never tell,

if you miss me,

or miss the way that I love you.

silhouette photo of person holding door knob

Don’t ask me,

where my heart resides,

as if you don’t know.

I keep the key,

to the rest of my life,

around my neck,

but it’s just jewellery,

to me,

because you are my home,

even when you’re gone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s