They say that if someone makes you cry, they’re not worth your tears.
Your ghost still roams the cobwebbed corners of my mind, my love. He feeds on my fragility and soars through my mind when it is screamingly obvious that I have sealed it shut. I know he is you. He has your eyes and your hands and his voice sends shivers down my spine just like yours did. I am in love with a shadow. Yours. You don’t care but I don’t have the strength to murder your ghost. Do they ever die?
I will look for an exorcist.
Just..not yet.
I’m not ready.
What if you make yourself cry, are you worth anything at all?
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