Ghost of old love

 

Breakups hurt the most

when lying in bed,

surrounded by old ghosts.

Meandering memories of smiles shared,

The moments where love

wasn't a floating transparent phantom,

But a solid thing,

before the hurt started to kick in.

 

Those times we dined,

on food that tasted divine,

could have been anything.

It was the shared moments

that made it so fine.

Those tables now sit empty,

Just old fables,

a story of history.

 

The hurt when your mind

takes glimpses at times,

when things were not fraught,

before battles were fought.

When laughter was shared,

not angry words

and poison filled air.

 

These ghosts vanish in time,

but whilst they haunt, taunt

and tear at your mind,

they can feel unkind.

But we are the stories we've lived,

the souls we've touched,

hearts we have kissed.

So let the ghosts coexist,

they are just memories,

not physical entities,

just little snippets of song.

of times where two hearts

beat a rhythm together,

before the beats went all wrong.

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle