Ghost.

I see your face in my dreams, in random strangers at the store or anything that clings a relation to you. How is it that a soccer ball can make me well up in tears?



I hear you in my thoughts, in songs or whispering to me of how things could be.

I put you there and you wont get out. Oh how I wish you would leave.

How I wish I could cut you out, pretend you never existed. Pretend that you didn't became so intertwined in my hopes and dreams.

This is arduous. You are my torture

The sad thing is I never could say it....

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