I wonder if spirits are like phantom birds,
who rest high in branches,
so that they might catch a glimpse of whom they left behind.
And I hope that you my love have joined my flock.
For with your leaving I have lost myself,
feeling as the ache in my chest has pulled apart my heart
leaving it mangled and leaking.
Which I can feel as it drips off my eyelashes,
Onto the coffee stained photograph of you.
Longing for moments which never came to pass.
How I wish Mr. Sandman played jokes,
but wishing to touch stars is foolish,
and only leave the soul raw.
I know that truth is sometimes living with cracks,
Ones that burn with salt.
Making whispers of reassurance
feel like acid has filled my lungs.
I have now become friends with Secret's screen
Where I keep something of yours hidden
So that I may study its detail.
Hoping that some bit of you is trapped in its worn rough surface.
And when it's cloudy
I hope that light seeping thorough is you letting me know you're okay.
So now I will walk through life with my shadow
Still longing to see yours beside mine.
