My Favorite Phantom

I've been haunted by so many things, so many people, so many traumas.

I've never had a ghost that made me smile.

I've never had a ghost that made me hope to see it again.

And then there was you.

You and your smile that takes over my mind.

You and your eyes that seem to sparkle.

You and your kindness that shocks me into quiet awe.

And I find myself looking in the windows I pass, and the empty space, hoping to catch you standing there.

I find myself reaching out in my dreams and waking up to handfuls of air.

I find my chest aching at the impossibility of it all, of the timing, of the space, of the hope.

When I wake up with stinging eyes and a head that knows you're gone, I still whisper your name into the night in some dull hope that you might hear me.

I am haunted by hope that refuses to die, that promises me it's not the end.

I am haunted by hope that my favorite of all the ghosts will become tangible once more and catch me in this fall.