you are the ghost, and i am now the home that you are haunting to this day.
i am all empty and quiet, the wreckage, devoid of sunlight.
i still keep you as if it serves a purpose
i am not hollow if i nurture you, if i allow you to linger amidst the darkness.
there will be no healing, no rebuilding.
i cannot make a home out of a ruin.
but perhaps, i can make a grave and bury in it all the memories of you i’ve saved as if they were a lifeline to the time when you were still here, and i was still there with you