The ghost of your love is haunting me.
He comes to me in my dreams every night
and when I wear that sweater you liked.
He came to me again today
disguised as an old letter you wrote me
tucked between the pages of a book.
He punched me in the gut when he came today
like every other day he comes
which is everyday I wake up.
I cried last night,
just like the night before that
because he came and kissed me goodnight.
I couldn’t breathe yesterday,
when I read a poem about
two lovers holding hands.

I may seem okay to you
but I am far from being okay.

I am haunted by that which you killed.