If you ever believe anything I say,

Believe this.

There is a ghost right beside you.

This ghost is not here to haunt you.

This ghost is not here to harm you.

This ghost is not here to love you.

This ghost, is here to observe you.

Observe everything you do and everything you feel-

He notices everything. He notices every time your face twitches in pain. Knows who it is that makes you smile, even when it doesn’t show upon your lips. He notes every nervous habit, every fear, every hope, every dream, every sin, every deed.

Good or bad.

At the end of a period of time that you could never measure, he stops observing.

As sudden as he began.

And he speaks to you.

At first you’re not sure what language he’s speaking.

You understand it, but don’t know how. Whatever language, he speaks slow and deliberate.

You understand him to be telling you the reason for watching you.

You understand him to say that you aren’t special.

You understand him when he says on a personal level that he is jealous of you.

You hear him tell you that being so near to you for this period of time, infected him.

He cries at night now.

He feels everything now.

He says you introduced him to emotions he cannot control.

He did not observe you control them either.

You understand him to say, he doesn’t know what to do. 




Dust rises from his steps where he is.


Slamming door, cracking wood. Unnoticed.

Smoke rises to the ceiling and creeps along the walls. People dwell here-

where he is.

Minds flit from thought to thought, never lingering for long, never delving too deep.

Everything here is gentle. The body contact, the words, the sounds…

a room filled with smoke and no intentions, with nothing deeper than the skin on their bodies.

And as his mind is gently rolling over thoughts, stopping for a moment to consider each picture in his head-

he thinks of me.

For a brief moment I can feel his mind scanning my eyes, drifting over my body… not too deep.

Sounds blare, lights flash. Where I am. Aware.

I’m aware of everything and everyone needing me, even within these walls. There is need with the clutter, with the wind howling nearby.

My emotional mind clashes with the night. It fights against the calm, argues with reason.

The air is heavy. So heavy.

Pain reminds me of more pain.

And I think of him. I think of where he is.

I notice everything. And I wish he could be here.

Bring the calm. Bring the smoke. Bring your heart.


Slowly waking, parting lips,

the warmth creeping away from my body like a shadow with the rising sun.

A diagonal weight across my chest for the lack of your hold. Reassurance in a new way- harsh, piercing.

Sinking in a circle, both my palms slipping down your chest.

A sound, a gasp – need.

I retreat into an idea, colours cover my face. My vision sweeps up the wall, along the ceiling.

Projections with mixed memories,

hands clasped, shades of grey

make it a reverie.

Sudden- static. A flash of tangled legs and I turn my head.

I smirk with tomorrow’s breath on my neck. And search alone for the warmth.