I am writing love poems to the ghost once more. The ones that wail in the space where my heart once lived. Where sadness now dwells in deep oceans. And longing lies drowned in their depths. Let the ink spill in blue words like veins of blood onto the paper.
Once you collected all the stars from the galaxy. You pressed them into my eager hands.
To guide you through all the darkness of life you said. How could I ever stop the gods from taking you away? The one who could collect stars.
When you left I folded my heart into a love poem. And slipped it quietly into your soul. To take with you to eternity I whispered.
I promised myself to stop writing to the ghost. But they are all the comfort that remains.
So I write to them one more time. As the dying embers of your stars slowly fade in my hands one by one.