Ghost Story
Memories of you still haunt me.
There should be an island
for all the ex's.
Instead, you're still walking
the same Earth as me
in some far corner of the state.
Simpler if I'd fallen too.
We could have been married
and divorced by now, with 2.5 kids.
I've nothing to be bitter about,
to sour my face and grey my hair.
Hearts break in the most interesting ways,
but repairing them is a singular business,
forgiveness
forgiveness.
November 17, 2015
prompt: haunted poem
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