Last night, I kicked your ghost out of my bed.
He said he loved me and begged to stay.
I shook my head and pointed toward the door.
A single tear was all I had left to shed.

He gathered the last of his emotional baggage,
And that pop-up copy of "The Little Prince."
He staggered down the stairs into the darkness.
Just like you, he didn't look back.

If you're the devil or Holden Caulfield, I can't be sure.
I know your ghost was my unreliable narrator.
While I will admit, I miss the sound of his voice,
He only left me cold and wanting more.

Thanks, KC and PKH.

Sometimes "time heals all wounds" is just bullchit...Totally loved this one missy!

Truth... thanks, Leigh.

Thanks, Tazz!