Ghost.

This is a feeling I thought I’d forgotten. The emptiness of the streets, the bareness of the trees. I want the down and the thread counts, I want the flicker of the candles and the flaps of bird’s wing’s outside of our windows. The howling of the wind while we’re having all of the strange conversations we used to have. Your shoulder blades and the curve of your spine will be the roads I take every day. I heard your voice today. You didn't know I was there, but I heard you, and it came at a complete surprise. I hate how shocking it is to me to even see you in existence. I sometimes like to imagine that  you have died, and that's why you are completely disappeared from my life. Whenever I see or hear you, I think that I'm in the presence of a ghost. You're not real to me.