Born in morning with jaded eyes.
Foul solitude thrashes in a thick void,
soaked in desire for the one lost at sea.
Chaos seethes below churning tumultuous worry.
The tunnel darkens but for a spark.
Hope wanes but never dies.
A ghost fashioned out of love and nostalgia to calm my storm paces the attic floor. The lines of her hands trace up the stairs with fingerprints and echoes of laughter. Aching for the breath and bones, I sit with the construct as she continues to color me. With all that grace and light she speaks to what was and what should have been. I gently nod and remind the ghost I have made, she is loved truly and unconditionally.
Shiny people I select
To give this short life meaning
Warmer treasures I collect
That send the sad parts reeling
Through my life there has been one
Her pure spirit wild and free
She lit my world with bright sun
The world our oyster, our sea
Love requires our best to thrive
A lesson learned much too late
With heartbreak I will survive
Emotions in a tired state
As I look back on those times
So joyous and so loving
I can’t regret heart’s clear chimes
For that love I go on living