Ghosts Of My Past

Haunt me,

Unlike the ways of spirits,

Imprinting my soul by yours,

Haunt me,

Leaving your scent unto me,

Like a room filled out by baked apples,

Haunt me, 

Until I start hallucinating,

And haunt me,

As if you truly follow me,

Haunt me,

By the sweet tones of your piano,

Whereby I sat watching you play,

Haunt me, 

With the bitterness of the morning coffee,

With the torn pages of the book,

You could never read to me,

Haunt me, again,

With all the singularly eyed jokes,

And the laughter that followed,

Haunt me, still,

Through the seconds,

When you helped me replace my guitar strings,

Haunt me, 

Haunt me, till I hum the tunes you made,

Haunt me, until the edge of madness,

And haunt me, 

Till I bleed of you.

Been long gone, eh?

Some inspiration it took, this one.

Buzzed,

Ak.