Ghostt

it was like i couldn’t speak, except to make little whirring noises in the back of my throat. it was like i stopped wondering when or if we’d ever get back to normal, or abnormal, or whatever we were that i so desperately loved. it was like my heart opened up and spilled its contents all over the floor, like i became a poet who only used constanants. it was like i became a homeless person, walking around without a real purpose, because i lost the right to even say love

if sound escapes a room, it always finds a place to land.

it is like i write for you now because the words stop in my throat. it is like i write for you now so even if one day you lose my voice, you’ll never be able to forget my words. it is like i write for you because i do want you to love me, or at least love the way i write to you.

when i write you, i put weight on words like “love,” but it’s like i am crushed by of the weight of a ghost, like it’s somethings there, but you just can't see it.