I’ve never been afraid of ghosts, but you somehow managed to make me start looking around the corners, under my bed, in the silence of the night, on the moon, even in my bedside table’s drawers; just to make sure you’re not hiding there anymore. But you’re still in the polaroid picture hanging in my room, in my notebooks between verses and stanzas.
You’re still on the back of my mind every time I think of love. And every time we speak, the thought of you comes back to roam my dreams; dreams of which I wake up heartbroken, for when I open my eyes you’re still gone. You hunt me from time to time, not always, not even scarcely. Just enough to keep me wanting more.
I’ve never been afraid of loss until I met you. And I really want to move on, go on with my life; I want to sleep without you hovering in my thoughts. I long for a day you’re either here or not near at all.
You’re my reason to believe the right person can exist; in this case it was simply and undoubtedly at the wrong time.