in my dreams, he lingers

it’s in the quiet of the night,

when the dogs stop barking

and when the birds stop tweeting,

when the world is still—

that’s when he finds his way

into the innermost corners of my mind,

always without invitation,

and with a stubborn refusal to leave.

almost like a ghost of what we left unresolved,

in my dreams, he lingers.

there isn’t a night where I don’t toss and turn,

trying with all my might

to shake him from my mind,

to weave him out of scenes that could’ve been,

and will never be.

almost like a ghost of what we left unresolved,

in my dreams, he lingers.

his presence isn’t loud,

it isn’t frightening,

but it is haunting—

a lingering ache of a love we couldn’t keep.

and in the morning when i wake,

i carry the weight of him with me—

the longing, the pain, his light, and his shadow.

almost like a ghost of what we left unresolved,

in my dreams, he lingers.

i often wonder,

does he dream of me too?

or is my heart condemned to carry this burden alone,

roaming through endless nights,

seeking solace in shadows?

because almost like a ghost of what we left unresolved.

in my dreams, he lingers.