Months passed by. A few or too many, she couldn't tell. She remained in the same state, so it didn't really seem to matter. Well not really the same, nothing was the same anymore. She was haunted now. What could she do?
This falsified comfort
Like an inner self
Or soul
With you
Always with you
Haunting your waking moments
And stalking your dreams
That ghost, again, ever since the funeral. Every waking moment. It held her close, with arms that couldn't touch, so a touch she couldn't feel. It went through her. The ghost would sit with her, comfort her as she spent endless hours crying, telling her he still loved her and that everything would be okay.
"Well then why did you leave?"
"Don't you love me anymore?"
'Of coarse I do'
'I never left you'
"Of coarse you did! You killed yourself!"
"You went away..."
'No, he killed me...'
She knew it was true. That the ghost had done nothing wrong. He loved her, as he always had. So she couldn't be angry with him. After all, it was her husband who killed himself, and not the ghost. The ghost continued his sad attempts to comfort her. How close she was to him. She could almost feel the ghosts touch. It was all in her heart though.
And was almost like
He was still
There with
Her
She could still remember the feeling when it was like this. It filled the cavity that was her heart, made it ache less, as if filling it with life. It still hurt, because she saw through the ghosts comfort, and knew that it could never replace him actually being alive. The ghost was as sad and lonely as she was...
Drifting, it's not real
For he feels her ache
And forms complete sympathy
For he feels
What she feels
He too is
The lonely one
Will you cry for me?
He stared at her miserable as ever. They existed on two separate planes, and so they could never be together. All the while they watched his murderer, live and look like him, but be a complete stranger. They would both beg (even though he couldn't see or hear the ghost) him to make it right. To make it better. To let the ghost back in. But he would claim there was nothing he could do to change what had happened, and that he didn't even regret what he had done.
After awhile, she just couldn't take it. She told the ghost to leave. His presence did comfort her, but it also reminded her of everything she had lost. It was torture. He looked at her, a melancholy stare, and told her 'If you ever need me again, call my name'. Then he disappeared. She cried all night long, till pure exhaustion took her into sleep.
The days ahead were grey and empty. Sounds came to her vaguely and without meaning. After only a day she found herself weeping his name, and saw him appear beside her, his iridescent arms wrapped around her as best they could. "I can't love a ghost forever" she whispered "And I doubt he'll ever try to revive you...". The ghost sighed 'I know... I know... but I love you so much. I wish he could understand that. I don't even know why he did it in the first place...". She could see the pattern forming. This is how it would be, forever. Whispers of love, echos of comfort, and nights that drown with tears...
Will we let it go?
It's all we've got now
The feelings that used to be whole
Now are hollow in their presence
They cannot be let go
For the fear of losing what little survived
And all that we know
It will be gone
As ghosts are pale like old photos
And rot with time
Or will you cry with me?
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