my last long relationship ended
much like my childhood felt
the vague haunting of a roommate
though none were ever seen

a shower mat left on the floor
new pile of dirty dishes
the coffee maker empty
still warm
(my bed just the same)

the doors here are like magic
open and close all on their own
when summer comes
the chilly draft is almost tolerable

if there were a sighting
it vanished on the spot
a peripheral kind of love
I had grown quite used to

the more I tried to force connection
the more ghosts grew evasive
better still than slamming objects
or screaming through the walls

without something to physically grasp
I often wonder if it was all imagined
if my paranoid mind created apparitions
to make me feel less alone

or maybe I am the ghost instead
the one that lingers after all life has gone
with no one left to tell me
that I’m not really here