Somewhere he still loves me
“Somewhere he still loves me”
And no I don’t mean the piece of me still left in the jacket he borrowed me
I mean the ghost of our love lingers in every place he has ever loved me
Our spirits still slow dance on cherry’s lawn
Our souls still hold hands and kiss in the back of my dad’s car
Our presence still laugh at that joke that wasn’t even that funny
Or at least that what I want to believe
But it’s so much harder when there’s no ghost and it’s just the real me falling apart
Because I slow dance with my sorrow now
I have tried to reach out and touch the phantom of our love
Please tell my why my hand phases through the only thing I would die to hold
“We” is a concept I no longer have the comfort to believe in
But I can’t help but wish I could bring inanimate objects to life
I’m dying to ask the roads we walked down if we looked as happy as we felt
I’m dying to ask the walls if we swooned with every kiss
I’m dying to ask the sun if he shone brighter to compete with my light when I talked about you
I’m dying to ask your pillows of every tear shed
I’m dying to ask you’re bed about every goofy smile
I’m dying to ask your TV about every show you missed talking to me instead
I’m dying to ask your phone how you looked as you promised to love me forever
I’m dying to ask the sunset why it even tries to compete with your smile
But most of all I’m dying to ask my heart how to live without you
~Keyla Chongo
