my ghost
i wish to put a curse on him.
so that he may never truly have his "me time".
so that his hands feel jarringly empty with every "solo travel" he goes on.
so that his thoughts overflow but there's no one by his side for him to pour them out.

so that his mouth feels dry from not talking,
and his jaw awkward from not giggling the whole day,
there's usually this ache that should've been there, somewhere.
so that he'd wonder why he misses the discomfort and pain.

so that every time he puts his hands in his pockets,
he'd swear he could almost feel my fingers intertwined with his
and he'd bite his lips, the sweater he'd clench in a fist, but no warmth would ever come from it
so that even in his solitude he may never truly be at peace.

i wish for my absence to haunt him,
so that he may long for my presence
in his attempt to heal from the world on his own,
he'd miss not having to do this long walk all alone.


but i think i shall not call this a curse
i think i'd rather him feel my lingering sweet, a blessing, a daydream and never worse
if the moon and stars ask me if it had ever been love
i'd shrug but i'd wish so that in my absence they could shine him from above.

© lostboyzephyr