Lonely Ghost

The nights are the worst.

so lonely,

wanting to hold you,

the pillow becomes your skin.

Arms wrapped around it,

face buried

in nonexistent raven hair

that is yours, but not yours.

Arms clasped around

and folded into sheets

that in my hazy dream state

become our hands,

holding hands as we walk

in the park.

Wrapped in and around this

tear stained fabric

we kiss, and I cry

knowing you're gone.

Lips I created and neck I kiss

made as real as can be

in your absence.

I no longer know where

you begin, and I end.

Every night

I recreate you,

wrap myself around you

tangled sheets

lost in UN-reciprocated desire,

wrapped up in my longing

for you and only you.

Like a ghost.

A lonely ghost.