Her eyes
look at me
like I'm still alive.

Her words are carried
unto me
like they still matter.

She tries to
contain me
to touch my being
but all I feel
is her going
right through.

She takes our pictures
not noticing
I'm not there.

I do not think she knows
how to tell ghosts and livings
apart.
I do not think she sees me
without a filter
o who she thinks I am.
I don't think she realizes
I don't breathe anymore.

Because if she were saying
all those words
that belong to the living
while I'm so dead
it would be
too cruel.

I don't haunt her
I already did so
during my living.

At her pace though
I doubt our string
can with stand the tension
much longer

Before she knows it
she won't see me
wont remember me.