Ghost
I remember the summer night with me on the stairs wishing, wishing I could let go of you and see you past that door of epiphany, but I stood there holding your arms. I couldn't set you free. As I look around running cars now, a trepidation slithers through me. I see you in front of them --- your shallow, hollow figure caressing the cold with your bare hands, smiling at the unknown and I pass to you --- through you because you look beautiful. Nah, you look happy. In the rain, as my wet self walks around in its adventure, I see your hope piercing my heart questioning my silent epitaph and feeling so grotesque. I lie down, in those desolate muddy roads and cars pass by me, but I am strangely still there. I see you asking me for a cup of coffee. I see you explaining functions to me. I see you. But this happiness that arrives with you, my dear, I can't take it anymore. Don't corrupt me, please.