there's a superstition that says you have to hold your breath when you pass a graveyard otherwise a ghost will enter your body.
lately whenever i find myself driving through your neighbourhood, i've been holding my breath because i'm afraid of all the ghosts you left behind.
i noticed that your house is for rent and i feel bad for the family that movies in there. you left so much behind to rot and i highly doubt their spirits are anything like casper, not after all the suffering.
i've been looking for answers in everything. i've been crossing my fingers and making wishes and watching stars. i think you're around somewhere because i don't think it's irony that every time i'm near your house green day comes on the radio.
i'm worried that you're trapped and you'll never be let go. i've been dreaming about you a lot lately and each time i wake up unable to move because i'm expecting to roll over and see your smile. each morning i only disappoint myself.
i haven't been able to forget the way you laid in my arms and cried about all the people that you said you'd hurt. i haven't been able to forget the way you pressed your forehead against mine and whispered, "kiss me, baby."
but what i miss more than any of that is your cigarette kisses. inhaling your exhale, your secrets getting caught in my throat.
more than a little secondhand smoke in my throat.

you meant everything to me.
you still do.
i'm falling apart without you,
please come home.