Casper the…

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As I attempt
To find a difference,
I also search
For something more.

Seeking the traits
Of those, That are gone,
Like an habitual
Anxious chore.

I’m seeing
The same ol’ thing,
Further straining the eyes
That quickly sore…………..

Why do I
Miss you so,
Why do I
Find you in others?

Why do I hate iT
When I find iT
If at worst
We were lovers.

You caught the bug
Well before I
& by the time I
Caught it, it was over.

The memory of you
Is enhanced with strong drink,
Further pushing me off
Of sober………..

My eyes,
They play tricks,
Or you’re everywhere
That I AM.

You get prettier
Each time
Dragging me deeper
Into damn.

What unfinished business
Do I have,
I don’t
understand.

Lost is the ghost
That isn’t ready to leave,
The in-between of this
Slow dance /Forbidden land.

  1. Often our remembrance of someone is stronger and more favorable then the real person.

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