The Ghost In My Heart

The Ghost in My Heart

There's a whisper in the chambers, where the pulse beats soft and slow, A quiet, unseen presence that only I can know. It doesn't wear a sheet, or rattle chains of night, It's just the residue of a forgotten, fading light.

It's the echo of a laughter that the silence now has claimed, The shadow of a promise that was whispered, then disclaimed. It moves through empty corners, where the memories reside, A hollow, heavy feeling I can neither run nor hide.

The ghost is not of malice, nor a spirit come to harm, It's just a version of myself, kept safe and warm from storm. The person I once was, or the love I had to leave, A gentle, constant haunting, in the silence when I grieve.

It sleeps when I am busy, but wakes when I am still, And sometimes, in a crowd, I feel a sudden, silent chill. A reminder that a past self is still a part of me, The beautiful, unburied grief of what can never be.

It doesn't demand silence, it doesn't beg to speak, It simply shares the heartbeat, strong and yet so weak. The ghost in my heart is love's persistent trace, A beloved, constant phantom in this solitary place.