The people we love, people we love...
People we love so much...
The people that we love become ghosts inside of us (x3)
The people we love so much
they become ghosts in us...
They say the people we love become ghosts inside us
I guess that would explain the sound of your voice lurking in every corner
I see your smile in every lover’s eyes
You haunt my existence
Prayers as persistent as a black mother
On a summer evening
Or maybe I am because see it’s my mind creating you
Still writing you into my story line
Your character’s evolution would have been crazy
Let me tell it
And maybe it was or maybe it is
It kills me to know I’ll never really know what you become
To this day you’re my easiest poems to write.
See dark spaces make my pen’s flow a little heavier
And the brighter it becomes
The slower the flow runs
We weren’t taught that stories can be joyous
It isn’t only heartbreak that makes beautiful words and portraits
The yellow of the sun is just as