Your Ghost

I fall, without bracing, into the pits of you.

I bloody my feet in my chase,

Tripping over my own bones.

And each night, death whispers to me of your fate.

I refuse to let another hold your

Cold hands.

I will be the reaper by your side,

As your spirit descends.

I will lay with your corpse,

And lay my lips on yours.

My embrace will fill

Your empty spaces.

There is room in my attic,

And space in my basement.

The floorboards are cold,

And will creak where you roam.

I will feel you in each chill

And hear you in each undertone.

My devotion will make death envious,

The one thing it cannot take away.

I am in love with a ghost.