Have you ever been in love with a ghost?
A reincarnation of a soul that you once loved freely in a past lifetime
But in this one you are only allowed to love behind closed glass doors and one way mirrors
Because that-- is where it is safest at
They are now just a faded reproduction of a familiar image,
Forgotten in the back left pocket of your favorite pair of jeans, tucked tightly between your
MARTA car and matching rainbow rings
Thrown into the washer & slung through the spin cycle a few times too many, who edges are
starting to unravel, much like the smile slowly peeling off of their face
Have you ever been in love with a ghost?
The reproduction is almost identical, expect this reflection is gentler, their eyes heavier,
And laugh hollower
Before anyone else could see it, you saw the fading, their limits growing more translucent with
every hardship that came their way
Months before the doctors, and pills and tears.
When the only tears cried were your own.
Words so violent plunged into you
Your once gold plated ears, accustomed too hearing only sweet everythings from your everything.

Have you ever been in love with a ghost?
When their gold riddled words stop pouring, calls stop coming and texts stop sending.
When you finally get out of your feelings, you realize that it was not about you, it was never
about you.
As a bystander, you begin to see the slow break down from the impact of reality.
You injury yourself, rushing around trying to pick up their fallen shards of hope
So when they are ready to regain control
All you have to do is open your hand, but holding the sharpened edges of someone else’s pain
can only be held by hands so gentle,
until they start to cut the holder
until their pain becomes your pain
their 3 am phone calls become your daily alarm,
your test in the mourning seems far less important as you coax them back to sleep
only in their peace can you find peace
and even though you’re not a big believer in time, when the clock flashes 11:11
you don’t wish for you.
and even though you don’t really know who you’re praying to,
whenever you find yourself on your knees, looking up
you don’t pray for you.
You know that are not just living for you anymore,
the thought they won’t ever come back haunts you,
scared the ghost of all things sad has taken home in a temple you worship
so when you hold them, you hold them as if FRAGILE was seared into their spine
as if their bones were made of porcelain
their skin of china, and their soul was laced with worry.
See, I had to realize that even I am not human enough to rid a ghost in a place so holy
I cannot defiberate your pain, clear and shock happiness back into you.
Or inject joy into your veins.
I cannot breathe stability in your life just by kissing you.
But know,
I ain’t afraid of no ghosts, scary movies never did much for me
And horror tales were just a joke.
Because even a ghost can’t take over something so beautiful for too long.
I will be here until you have emerged from this misty place.
When the fog is behind you, you can play hopstoch on graves and skip tones on fear.
So know, I will not stop wishing and I will not stop praying.
I will be here until your ghost gets ghost.