Though my conscious mind thinks not of you,
There you are in my dreams haunting every happiness
Like a forlorn, desolate spirit.
It makes no sense because I know you’re happy,
So why then does your image torture my subconscious?
We are through; you seem to want it that way,
Even if we never said proper goodbyes.
I accepted that you’d chosen to detach yourself from me.
Yet you’re creeping into my deeper self, the one who’s benevolent.
Clawing through the misty parts to take hold in my waking moments
Is it that I care that deeply for your person,
Or do I really want a concrete leave, a tangible severance?