What is it that I see?

Its you.

Is it you?

Is it the you that used me?

Or the you that loved me?

The you that held me close?

Or they you that ****** me, metaphorically.

Is it the you that lied?

Or the you that held me when I cried?

Is it the you that holds on?

Or is it the you that’s long gone?

I don’t know what I miss most.

You or your ghost.