Sitting in a ghastly church,
with cracked and broken pews,
you watched the ghosts pray
and their tears form flowers
in the cracks of the broken marble floor
underneath their dead feet.

I never realized how sensitive I am
until I couldn't stop crying
and I hurled last weeks dinner
just because they yelled at me

I didn't want them to hate me
but they told me I had problems
and that I was horrible

I'm sorry and I wish they didn't hate me
I wish that I could take back what I said
but it's all wishing
and I can't tell them I'm sorry
because I'm afraid they'll hurt me

And it's all stupid
nothings going to change
it's not my fault
so I guess I shouldn't care
(but I do)

It's forty-two degrees outside,
frost is dressing all the windows,
nose deep in sweater fabric
and licking my chapped lips
trying to remember what you taste like

You hated fall
and winter
and the cold
but I adore it
like I adore how your nimble fingers
danced with your pen
when you wrote me love songs

It's getting harder to remember
since you left last summer
with a dark tan and a mess of hair
and two duffel bags,
you kept saying
"I'm gonna make it big and come back for you!"

But I haven't seen you since last summer
and you changed your cell phone number
I heard you got a girlfriend
and you like winter and fall now

I was wearing that dumb sweatshirt
you bought me last Februray,
it smells like the Newports you smoke
and feels brand new,
even though I stuffed in my closet for a year

I played your favorite song on repeat
pretending you're here
laughing, smiling,
and kissing me on my neck to make me groan
like you do

It felt like ice cubes coming from my eyes
and I couldn't stop shaking
and I couldn't stop crying
and I kept praying
(even though I don't believe in God)
that you would wake up
in that stupid hospital bed

His hands were small, pale, and cold
but I held them in mine anyways

His eyes half lidded and sunken in
were dark and sad

He kept talking about drinking
and cigarettes and dreams and her
he told stories of her
and I felt his own tears
on our entwined fingers

My voice quivered comforting words
I kissed the mourning off his lips
his mouth curved into a tiny smile
forgetting the hurt only for a moment

He was a not so dead ghost
haunted by a dead one