The Art of Longing for your Ghost

You’ve changed, and I know you won’t be coming back.

So I’ll pass on my longing to your ghost instead.

Tethered by my memories of you, memories of us.

I’ll light this memory like cigarettes.

I’ll inhale the memories of the past, hold them inside

‘Til my head goes light and I’m able to feel your warmth once more.

Blowing the clouds to release the bitter pain,

when I can no longer hold on to your warmth.

Then doing it all over again.

Like a drug, as it’s my oxygen

that I need to breathe

I’ll go on my day forgetting the ache in my chest.

Realising I’ve opened my eyes to the start

of the unending nightmare of my new world.

A nightmare that begins at the end of a sickeningly sweet dream.

When we’re still in the past, promises still intact,

bonds not yet held together by a lie.

I’ll pour the memories into a glass that I’ll drink.

The sweet taste of your lie on my tongue,

Followed by the bitter aftertaste of your betrayal.

Savoring the bittersweet vintage wine of our memories.

The things I’ll continue doing, the vices I’ll indulge.

Just to feel closer to you once more.

Even if it’s just your ghost.