The broken down truck

on the side of the road

reminds me of days gone by

cruising  in your Chevy till the gas ran dry.

 

The tears finally stopped coming

about a year after you left

I had no more desire

to cry over your bad choices.

 

The memories can’t hurt me

they are just images in my head

but the words inflicted wounds

that never seem to heal

no matter how many times I try to forget.

 

Ghosts linger on

dragging their chains

through my soul

and leaving me feeling cold.

 

I tried to push

the memory of you

inside a box

but I can never seem to get it to lock.

 

You seep out

every now and then

and run around in my dreams

the ghost of a love gone sour.

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