(no subject)

[nghtwishpoetess]

Some mornings I imagine
What future freedom will hold
The soft silence of solitude my
coffee companion
But the ghost of you slips through
As I crack eggs to start breakfast
A spectral arm around my waist
Soft sighs and smiles, unsung conversation hanging in the air
You, my now imaginary friend,
startle and stir this silence
Like coffee dancing with creamer
I cut myself on the shell
Of a broken tomorrow
And shimmering memory
escapes the wound to paint
possibilities untested, untasted
On the canvas of soul