you

i feel like i have to apologize,

because i continue to summon your ghost to write,

i sit and use your existence to mourn a loss,

but i lost nothing- you never took from me. 

you were not stolden from me. 

our lives laid parallel to each other, 

and i pretend i can make them cross. 

sometimes you keep writing about someone,

and you don’t hate them,

you don’t love them,

you don’t miss them,

yet every time you pick up a pen or go to bed,

it’s always them. 

i’m sorry it’s you.