you

i feel like i have to apologize,
because i continue to summon your ghost to write,
i sit and use your existence to mourn a loss,
but i lost nothing- you never took from me.
you were not stolden from me.
our lives laid parallel to each other,
and i pretend i can make them cross.

sometimes you keep writing about someone,
and you don’t hate them,
you don’t love them,
you don’t miss them,
yet every time you pick up a pen or go to bed,
it’s always them.

i’m sorry it’s you.