deepundergroundpoetry.com

But Who Can Love A Spectre

When my phone vibrates, fear jolts through my body because I'm scared it's you

The quiet sounds of this backyard scare me because I think I hear your voice
Whether it is really you or just my imagination
I don't know which is more troublesome

I can hear the creak of your gate leading into the backyard
From there ten paces to the sliding glass door of the kitchen

You are the spectre, haunting this neighborhood I can't leave
All morbid moans and rattled chains
The ghost of a year past

If I kissed your lips again, would they be cold?

I am haunted with the song you wrote for me
But only in whispers because you never played it for me

I still think of driving down the high way, a little too fast, a little too drunk
Songs we sang along too, blaring from your speakers
Your hand resting lightly on my leg
Wishing I could pull your eyes off the road to kiss you softly
Letting the yellow lines blend and become a crash
Like held hands of Lover's Leap
Ending our lives in poetry and not a disaster

What I wouldn't give for one more drive

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