A Familiar Ghost

It’s funny how things fade,

One day something stalks you close,

clipping your heels with every step you take,

weighing down the soles of your shoes,

melting into the cement

A haunting,

the ghost of your former happiness,

it runs through your body,

reminding you of the pain,

reminding you what you lost,

and why you feel the urge,

to turn around,

in search of your missing property,

the joy you dropped,

the joy he took out of your hands

And then one day,

many days later,

many drinks later,

you forget that your sneakers used to stick to the sidewalk,

and now your stalker keeps a quiet distance,

only appearing in the darkest of corners,

shadiest of alleys

The sun soaks into the freckles on your nose,

and your shoes feel as light as ever,

but sometimes before you step out,

you worry they’ll be heavy again,

that you're looming heartbreak,

will reveal itself from hiding,

and will seep back into your body,

run down your legs,

shooting roots into the ground,

immobilizing you

So far you haven't become a tree,

stuck in the cracked sidewalk,

so far your body still moves forward,

even if not in haste,

you continue to move forward

You feel the wind brush your face,

as your pace picks up,

as your heart lifts up,

and the stickiness that had kept your feet planted,

oozed its way up into your split heart,

tenderly fusing the arteries back together,

one break at a time

Until the day you talk to him,

see him,

hear him,

and at first it feels like the healing ooze morphs,

turning into cold spiky sludge,

that clogs my veins,

pierces my tissue,

ripping me open in slow motion

But then you talk to him again,

and he whispers he misses you,

and it feels good,

and it feels safe,

and it feels good

The sludge softens,

and warms up,

thawing my veins,

and he hugs me as tight as he used to,

and he kisses the same spot on my neck,

and he calls me love like he used to,

he calls me again

Now he turns my clothes right side out,

now he makes space for me in his room,

in his bathroom,

now he cooks me pancakes and undercooked bacon,

while I sleep in his bed,

now he knows how much I am,

something I had forgotten,

for one sticky moment

My heart has fused itself into a whole,

a deep ridge runs down the side where it mended itself,

and now it swells with something,

something bubbly and glowing,

probably love

Sometimes I still miss you,

miss us,

when there wasn't a crack in my heart,

but the ghosts have faded,

and I don’t see my stalker anymore,

only in this single dark corner,

he doesn't follow me,

I often forget he’s there,

or was ever right behind me,

Funny how things fade.