Ghost of you,
my Phantom Lover
lays down 
beside me 
longer than you 
ever had.
I've lasted 
wearied years 
since you left. 
Your Phantom
moved in
upon me
thereafter.
Together we've been since.
I haven't endured 
the madness 
in my clouds
alone. 
I have now 
spent more time 
with your ghost.

She is easier 
to live with, 
your ghost.
Perhaps just as deadly, 
just as dangerous.
In my mind anyway.
Her phantom presence 
scares me to death.
Your ghost 
has since convinced me 
I don't know you. 
And I never did.

Your Ghost
whispers, 
musing verse:
"She isn't quite 
your toothy flower, 
pernicious and proud
with all the power.
Hellbent high
and burning sour...
trippin 'round 
the Midnight Hour."

We can be ourselves,
Your Phantom 
and I.
There is not much hiding.
And certainly no projecting.
The ghost of you 
doesn't humiliate me 
or make me small.
She is gentle 
and smiles 
more easily.
She is here, 
next to me 
when I am alone.

I need her in my life.
Even if 
it is just to remind me
of the pain, 
the haunting, 
the torment. 
The memory in her 
fills me. 
Not of you.
Fills me 
with my shameless love 
for you.

My Phantom Lover
inspires my poetic bursts 
and employs 
my empty moments. 
My thoughts of her 
task me 
to create, 
to express, 
to love. 

Your pre-dawn reach,
your vampire lust
awakens us both.
Context of promise 
and hope 
in colored air
hangs briefly.
Your Phantom
wraps her angelic limbs
about my trembling frame
and I drift,
dreaming of
Wasted Love.

It seems your ghost 
is more present 
now 
than yourself 
when 
we were together. 
Sometimes 
it consumes me, 
however, 
as I am not 
strong enough 
to resist.
I am 
just weak enough 
to dream 
to hope
What could have been
instead
of what was.
The idea
of what we
could be…

My siren sings softly,
more verse:
"Just when I think 
I have no more heart 
to break...
Just when I feel
I have no more love 
to take,
Bitterness and resentment 
now careless contentment.
Impressions upon 
my pillow case,
Fine lit hair 
like golden lace.
Like promises 
we didn't keep
Empty loss
so sharp,
too deep.
For not a life 
you didn't see,
your ghost found 
true love
with me.
You were but a luxury 
Phantom Lover,
now necessity.
After night binge,
your memory…"

Her prayer,
your Phantom, 
my lover,
the next witch
may release your pebble
from my shoe
and exorcise you 
with her noble magic.
I don't worry
how many drinks
she's had.
Or what meds
your ghost 
is abusing.
She does not add words
or remove them
from the sentences 
I speak.
She is honest and loyal.
She is still here.
Beside me.
I can only see now 
what doesn't exist.
As though it never did.

Just now,
this moment.
In my ear…
She muses:
"Promised nothing
granted everything
attempts to sleep
At once,
the grief;
thoughts of you 
wake my mind.
Heartbeat 
quickens.
Pain in time…"

I hover,
floating
with haunting awareness.
I live in happy sadness.
Your Phantom 
is a corruption 
in my head 
not my heart.
She is my idea
of you.