Jan 08

only the ghosts know us

it's not so lonely anymore, facedown
on the hardwood floor, listening to the
ghosts whisper their secrets in my ear
until i fall asleep.

i've been talking to you in
my dreams, and it's made me lose
my faith in the lord above, because
your bed is empty and she is lonely.

jesus christ, i don't want it,
(irony catches me at my worst hours)
i don't want this need to remember you
just to feel something again.

the feel of callused hands against my
cheek, your voice speaking a language
i wish i could have learned, it all comes back,
and i don't want it, but serendipity has
never been kind to me.

i don't believe in god, but i believe in ghosts, 
i believe in the smell of cigarettes, and
i believe in you.

i hate remembering, but the guilt
of forgetting has stained the soft white
fabric of my dignity.

i love being lonely because of you, but i hate the
pity, so i push myself into the crowd,
hoping someone else will push me out
just as i start feeling happy.

i don't forgive you, and the fact will
drag me down to hell when i die, but
i don't believe, i don't believe in god,
so i will stay irate forever.

oh, i've been talking to you in my dreams,
and it haunts me, painting purple under
my soft eyes when i wake up, but
i don't forgive you.