the world that remains

i promise to never show you anything

that makes me think of him.

if i share a little world with you,

it will have to be enough.





the ghost is almost gone

at 4 in the morning i can see

where the darkness looks like you.

but your pale face is drained of

blood or love and you look like

only a trace of the ghost

that haunted me.

i’ve come to life

where the living love.

and you,

you are not among the living.