song of a ghost
this song always reminds me of you,
the days we spent curled in each other's arms,
and the nights i made you sleep on that couch.
i listen to her sing of the inability to think.
the need to seek out the silence that is found only in the arms of her beloved,
and i can't stop myself from thinking of you.
i want to skip to the next song,
press the right pointing arrow that allows me the peace of the next melody.
but something deep in my mind,
or perhaps it is just in my heart,
won't let me apply pressure to exit this world of confusion and lost memories.
some ghost of you that exists only to haunt me.
to continously dreging up the memories that i buried so long ago.
and even after the song ends,
my hand on it own accord, presses the "back" button
and the song washed over me once again.
drowning me in the tears that i spilled for you when you walked away.
why will you not leave me? why do you insit on staying here,
why do you insits on killing me,
again and again, breaking the shattered remains of whatever was left behind of my heart?
you are nothing to me,
even i don't believe those words.
you stole everything i ever was. i gave you myself.
i gave you all i ever was and all i could ever have been.
nightmares and dreams, fears and hopes, all things that make a person real,
but after you left, i became and illusion.
a dream or a dream of a real thing, a memory of a memory.
something that isn't real in the slightest.
there is something in me, that remembers what it was like to be real.
and the song plays again, stuck on repeat.
a residual haunting.
maybe i was wrong calling you the ghost.
infact, i know i was wrong. i am the ghost. something no longer real.
something that lost it's soul and no wanders aimlessly.
i am the haunting of my former self.
you are not here. you moved on. you live on.
the ghost is me.
This is an original piece and as such no part, in aprt or whole may be used without my, Chelsea Johnson, written permission. Thank you.
the days we spent curled in each other's arms,
and the nights i made you sleep on that couch.
i listen to her sing of the inability to think.
the need to seek out the silence that is found only in the arms of her beloved,
and i can't stop myself from thinking of you.
i want to skip to the next song,
press the right pointing arrow that allows me the peace of the next melody.
but something deep in my mind,
or perhaps it is just in my heart,
won't let me apply pressure to exit this world of confusion and lost memories.
some ghost of you that exists only to haunt me.
to continously dreging up the memories that i buried so long ago.
and even after the song ends,
my hand on it own accord, presses the "back" button
and the song washed over me once again.
drowning me in the tears that i spilled for you when you walked away.
why will you not leave me? why do you insit on staying here,
why do you insits on killing me,
again and again, breaking the shattered remains of whatever was left behind of my heart?
you are nothing to me,
even i don't believe those words.
you stole everything i ever was. i gave you myself.
i gave you all i ever was and all i could ever have been.
nightmares and dreams, fears and hopes, all things that make a person real,
but after you left, i became and illusion.
a dream or a dream of a real thing, a memory of a memory.
something that isn't real in the slightest.
there is something in me, that remembers what it was like to be real.
and the song plays again, stuck on repeat.
a residual haunting.
maybe i was wrong calling you the ghost.
infact, i know i was wrong. i am the ghost. something no longer real.
something that lost it's soul and no wanders aimlessly.
i am the haunting of my former self.
you are not here. you moved on. you live on.
the ghost is me.
This is an original piece and as such no part, in aprt or whole may be used without my, Chelsea Johnson, written permission. Thank you.
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