I spoke too soon, it seems, for you made a home in my dreams.
While I slept you kept running yourself through my head,
Like, "I won't be dead yet." I said, "You don't understand.
We had no control. They stole it; love's been so unfair to me. "
"But see, boy, that's my point. You must move on."
Then felt her ghost move in me.
I heard her voice call out my name but this time it faded out – away.
"I'll bury it today."
So I breathed her name out into a cold, cold room,
Watched her ghost ascend the walls and then dissolve,
"This time I choose to let her go.
I will not let my fear become the only world I've ever known.
I know my heart, kiss my mouth, set me free – I've wounds to mend.
And we'll be more than friends, my dear;
I fear I've changed my mind again. "
"But boy, you're too late. Oh, God, it's too late."