Our Ghostly Plane

a poem about moving on

On nights like this

when you’re fresh on my mind,

I think about the space that’s now between us.

The space that used to glow bright

like the stars outside my window.

I think about you and the way I was your fool.

I hate that I have so many questions

I’ll never know the answers to.

We aren’t close like that anymore

and it’s just not how things work.

I know that having these thoughts and questions

might not do anything but haunt me.

But there’s something so poetic in the unknowing;

so taunting.

And when I think about the space

between you and me that used to be filled

with infatuation and codependency,

I see that it no longer glows,

it’s actually quite hazy.

And there rot our ghosts

fueled by discrepancy.

Trust me when I say that I want to stop writing about you

it’s just that I can’t control the fact

that you have been the easiest thing

to write

but yet the hardest

to forget.

So on nights like this when

I wander back down the halls we used to roam,

running my fingers over the memories in frames,

I realize that this place was never my home.

.