Your words were diamonds,
glimmering with hope,

before they cut
jagged and sharp.

I’ve been shattered,
ever since you sunk in,

hapazardly slapping shiny patches
over the hard scratches.

I am mended for a time,
glass half full,

until one inspects the small rivulet
seeping through the splinters.

A brook weeping at the seams,
glass half empty.

I dream of your phantom at night,
spectres with empty promises
that tempt me all the same
and im reunited with my childhood daze.

I give in to the visceral wanting,
to your sweet shadowy haunting.
I am reminded of what I feel still,
old skeletons in the closet.

Cobwebs try to blur your memory,
but no matter how many times I attempt to banish these old demons,
I am still left with the ghost of you wandering my mind.