amaryllis

Isn't strange
how we only fear ghosts
when it's dark?
theoretically
if they're real
(which, 
although I am inclined 
to say they are,
is up for debate)
they're around all the time
shivers up my spine

cellphone chimes
vibrating and singing
a different tune
but every time the same
scream for attention
from someone
somewhere
not here
not important

left unanswered
waits for it to pass
settling in the room

I can't remember how me met
so I like to make up fantasies
Because for some reason 
it feels important
to know the beginning of our story
Even if
it's only the start 
I pretend to know

It's five in the morning,
we've binged the past four nights
and the end has finally come.
The theme music plays
one last time
and I'm crying
fat, rolling tears,
heart in tatters,
despite the fact

I've been tossed in tip jars
by soft manicured hands
Flung into fountains
by whispering dreamers

Hundreds of footsteps
Trekked along the sidewalk
All of their owners
Too busy bustling 
To take the time to pick up