Ghost

I was listening

to an old tune

that held new meaning.

When I found my muse

in a little blue

dot on my phone.

Memories

flooded into view.

how long has it been,

A year, maybe a few?

Last I heard,

You were still addicted to escape

Drowning your sorrow

in liquid courage and opiates.

Now, there’s a little icon

Suspended in the hollow,

with your face, as yet unforgotten

(a picture I myself had taken).

With an inaudible scream,

my heart nearly jumping

I read over your terrible spelling.

You said I appeared in your dream

That you still recall the feeling

we used to have before.

I decided I needed

to hear your voice once more,

for old times’ sake.

It was a mistake.

 

You told me you practice archery

(But how come you still miss me?)

You finally got a ferret

and you had no regrets.

We had not yet attained maturity

back then, you just wanted to party.

You still cuddle with Nemo

(how I miss that little furball!)

But your voice turned low

and I wanted to halt the call

at the mention

of your new woman.

What did I expect, that you would remain

Mine, forever wallowing in pain?

But then you explained that, despite your desire

Her spark has never matched our fire.

I whispered “because we were real”

But could not tell you how I feel.

I cannot pull you back on my string

Besides, she treats you like a king.

You asked if you could still call me a friend

for that, we would need to meet again.

For now, you must remain an apparition

Your face condemned to my imagination.

 

(I still love you, that I know.

how come I can’t say it though?)

You finally hung up the phone

I was back to being all alone.

 

You’ll always be the one

I loved, still love, the most

But Cupid had a loaded gun

now, you’re just a ghost.

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Author: Kalia Attal

I am an aspiring investigative journalist with a single dream: to save the world. It may seem impossible, but I believe knowledge promotes tolerance, and tolerance breeds empathy, kindness, and compassion. Love is the cure for Earth's cancer.

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