Beloved Ghosts

A Poem

Photo by Vlad Kutepov on Unsplash

i lay down the roses
at the altar to my heart
as if it’s a sacred place
instead of unholy ground
where i laid my ghosts to rest.

the dying petals scatter
across cracked gray stone,
and i don’t even have tears
left for them anymore
because it’s too late.

but the memories still come
flashing back to my mindscape
when i let down my guard
and remember the good
within the poison.

oh, his eyes were blue —
soft like a summer sky —
and his smile was like the sun
breaking through on a cloudy day
till it felt like every sadness disappeared.

then there was the one
with wit and humor alight,
always a quick remark for everything,
even as he stayed apart from the crowd
and made me feel like the center of the world.