The Things I Miss in Gathering of Poetry and Fiction

Stuck in a fog,
Having conversations that will never happen,
With people who never cared,
And aren’t really there.

Why should I crave conversation so bad?
I know I will not talk to you,
Not the way I think I’d like to.

You are just a vengeful ghost,
Why bother?
My beloved died,
And left you in his place.

A most inadequate wraith.

I remember…
His smile,
His beautiful tears.

I remember,
His adorable giggle,
Cute little glasses too.

But this is not the essence of his greatness.
Its hard to describe.

His honesty,
Yes.
Nothing to hide.
Playing with my hair,
I only pretended to mind.

His voice of course,
And that special way he had,
Of sitting too close,
And trying too hard,
Always to be nice.

Too bad it was only to me.

The way he talked about God.
And tried to help me do the right thing.
How he always knew,
So subtley.

His confidence,
Raw expressions.
The light behind eyes of surprise.
The look of concern,
And thoughtfulness.

The frustration he had,
Trying to understand something new.
The way he just wouldn’t give up on me.

These are the things I miss.
My perfect friend.
I’d give anything to go back,
Just a few more days.

And cry.
And tell you.
How much you meant to me.
And hold you,
As long as you let me.
Knowing you need me.

To talk to you honestly,
And tease you,
Juat a little,
All in fun you see.

I try not to hate the ghost,
But it feels like you killed him,
And sometimes I think you should pay.

Give me my friend back!
He was good.
He was right.
He was strange,
And I wouldn’t want him any other way.
Miss you J.
:(