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.

 

 

 

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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.