Was it her ghost that kissed me?
Her short shirts and perfect hair?
Forever haunting even in death?
Somethings you never forget.
That it was okay to love with all you heart.
Was that not the conviction?
The search for truth?
Asking for the answer in why it dies?
Looking for the light when all you saw was death.
You didn’t have to die to know
What it was like to slowly
Watch your own heart turn black.
Turn cold and make you forget
What it was like not to feel lonely.