The Ghost of You
Everywhere I go, you are with me. The memories of you, they either come along, or they meet me. But they are always there. I cannot escape them, nor do I want to. I always want you with me, even if it hurts. I go to grab a coffee, you are there. Iced Caramel Machiatto. I go to the grocery store, you are there. Hot sauce, cereal, Tostitos cheese dip. Did you get chips? Can you make that casserole? The one with the chicken and noodles, you know, my favorite? Today I asked Alexa to turn on some music, background noise for the dog, and you are there. "I'm not alright, you're not alright . . .don't let me go". I wake up to a new message, a loss mom . . .she's struggling. Her son also overdosed, we share our stories, and you are there. I see you. You are so cold, so pale, so still. In your Ole Miss long sleeve. You're not breathing. You especially hang with me on Mondays. The ghost of you. It's alwa