Ghosts

by it's friday night

All you can do is watch her from the doorway of her bedroom. Because she can't see you. Channy. One-shot.

You want to hold her.

You want to feel her frail body enclose itself in your arms.

And to tell her it's okay and secretly take in her aroma.

Because she always smells like warm vanilla.

You want to wipe the tears from her eyes.

And let her know you never stopped loving her.

And tell her she looks beautiful.

Because she always does, even with the tears pouring

from her dark eyes.

You want to drag her from the corner and pull her outside.

And dance in the middle of street and not care if you look crazy.

Because you're crazy about her.

You want to whisper dirty things in her ear.

And watch her cheeks turn pink.

Because she's such a goody-goody like that.

You want to hear her yell at you.

And say she hates you and then have her

come rushing back into your arms the next day.

Because she wants you so badly.

But you can't.

All you can do is watch her from the doorway of her bedroom.

Because people can't see ghosts.