The ghost that never left

The ocean wails like a mother in mourning, Waves crashing against the bones of the shore. I press my hands into the wet, frozen sand, But nothing I touch ever stays. The air still carries the scent of your skin, Faint, like a memory unraveling in time. I hold my breath to keep it inside me, But even the wind knows how to let go. The city beats with a heart that isn’t mine, Footsteps echo, but none belong to you. I pass by the cafe where you once sat laughing, The window reflects a stranger in my place. Every night, I dream you are reaching for me, Fingertips grazing the edge of my soul. But morning comes like an unforgiving thief, Stealing you away before I can hold on. The stars collapse under the weight of my grief, Falling like prayers no god will answer. I scream your name into the empty sky, But silence is the only voice that loves me back. Your absence sits in the chair beside me, A ghost that never learned how to leave. I pour two cups of coffee every morning, And drink them both, pretending one is for you. The wind howls through the cracks in the walls, Calling me toward a place with no doors. If I walk far enough into the night, Will I finally find you waiting? I have written you a thousand