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373 · May 2014
Haunted
You're the reason I believe in ghosts
I try to convince myself that I'm going mad
when I see your pale face against the morning sunrise
when I see your brown hair
the flowers in it are still as vibrant as before
when I stand stagnant and look at myself in the mirror
seeing nothing about myself you could have loved
feeling my collarbone -- the last place you kissed
I touch it tenderly, as if I could break it
and I try endlessly to search for answers
that I almost get lost in thought
about your pink lips and brown eyes
But I remember your body
like the L-train map
I could never forget
the feel of your thigh
the curve of your spine
I remember the scent of your blood
You thought of your body as a haunted house
and there was nothing you could do to escape it
how your skin turned purple at the touch
and how I got drunk one night and cried
thanking every ounce of blood within you for continuing to run
even though you tried so desperately to stop it in its tracks
The first time we met
you swallowed me soul
and I never asked for it back
I tried for months
to drown myself in my own tears
but you still haunt my heart
I lie in bed and I can see your silhouette
outlined next to my fragile, shivering body
still craving your warmth
sometimes I hear your moans that haunted me
even when we were still together
I close my eyes and pretend that the
moon shining through my window
is your pale, glowing, glorious face

— The End —