Waiting Still

March 2, 2009

I went looking for your ghost

In all the places we went most

But you never showed your face

I guess it was always the wrong time, the wrong place

For you were never there, but on the inside

I guess its not your ghost I’m looking for

Its mine

When you left, I died

And I feel closest to you when I cry

Sleep is foreign ’cause I’m waiting on you

To show up and give me back my ghost.

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