i was sixteen, you were pretending
young and lonely, someone else
my imaginary friend,
who was never really a friend

deep in the shadows, you lurk,
a memory that won’t repress,
you were a distraction
from my mess of a reality, a place
to freely feel, although it was ugly

a mess
apart from
a mess

one that was okay because
it didn’t really exist,
a black-and-white silent film,
spinning on the screen and then forgotten,
i could turn it off and it would
be gone, you would be gone, you are gone

but you were never really there,
and i lie here motionless
caressing the memories of a ghost