I Fell in Love With a Ghost in Poetry is the Window to the Soul...

  • Dec. 7, 2015, 3:57 a.m.
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And sometimes the inspiration comes from the very textured fabric of all of me to the very smooth silk of all of you..

“I Fell In Love With A Ghost”

I am in love with your ghost.

The empty shell of all my time and thoughts I have offered you each and every night since we first crossed into one another’s lens consumes me and leaves me here tonight spent without a word that speaks with the proper weight.

The proper cost.

If I had to select simply one?


The tides of our renewal merely drift amongst the shallows. There is no tidal surge that beckons me back into your life, but still I feel the toxin of your infection permeating every pore and crevice of me as I pour out my heart to you always in this longing for only one. My kindred in a silky red dress.

You are my temptress.

And I am yours.

Your one and only.

Lost cause.

And I stare into the stark white of the terror that is truth in commitment and the salve of your melody – what a soothing symphony – and I softly close my eyes knowing whether they are open or the opposite I will always see you in my vision.

You are my fevered condition.

And I want no elixir that might ever cleanse me of your nightly visits within the cobblestones of my thunderstruck mind.

Pace with me now past the thoughts of where we now sit in the present, hold my hand as we tear at the hands of time turning yesterday from painful separating into a memory worth celebrating as we embrace the thread – that through the electricity of our shared duplicity – fate had so meticulously spun.

Hold me now hard as I so desperately hold onto you in my silver-steeled heart, and I beckon you ever forward past the cliff of regret and the valley of resentment into the expanse of the hourglass where the sands of time that never quite fall at a gait I ever liked stop on a dime.

Frozen in time.

You and I.

Stitched together.

Ripped and re-sewn.


And the future once ever murky as the swamp within which I survive, becomes somehow less a pixelated portrait of 0’s and 1’s into a finer definition with a higher decision swollen with understanding and floating with forgiveness than this insufferable sadness that surrounds our very last attempt at healing these falling grains of loss. And what was to be our shared passage of time into what will be – with hope and understanding – our sterling future within which you and I do thrive.

You are a ghost.

And I am in love.

You are as beautiful as the stars are luminous, and so bright in this winter-kissed can’t sleep cause I miss you night.

Were the heavens to open and allow me to journey from a lowly terrene watcher into a stellar skywalker I would swallow every moment and carve into my memory every shy look stolen from your smile into the fabric that threads my honor. And my honor is so much my very life.

Yet nothing quite seems worth it when you are so far from me, and I am furiously memorizing every curve of your lips and every sway of your hips into the web within which I write you this sonnet.

I write for you.

I write of you.

I write within my heart each morning as the sun stares me awake and I write within my mind each night as the moon guides slumber in overtaking my longing. My aching. My sorry. My everything.

You are my muse.

And I am your sky.

I fell in love with a ghost.

And I have only one hope.

You only haunt me when I am sleeping, and you find it within yourself to stand strong with me and you materialize.

Lest I crossover to be your ethereal heart’s soldier when I die.

I fell in love with a ghost.

And I have never felt more certain of anything than your crimson-kissed lips creased in a smile.

Stealing every piece of me as you have stolen so many of my nights since we first met and I inevitably failed.

I fell in love with a ghost.

She is the center of my cosmic eloquence, and I am but the feathered quill which is to say I am her delicate instrument. She is inspired beauty. I am her scribe.

I fell in love with a ghost.

And I have never felt more alive.

© Brian Milici
December 7, 2015

I Can Read.. My Poetry

“Always” by Bon Jovi

Now your pictures that you left behind
Are just memories of a different life
Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry
One that made you have to say goodbye
What I’d give to run my fingers through your hair
To touch your lips, to hold you near
When you say your prayers, try to understand
I’ve made mistakes, I’m just a man

When he holds you close, when he pulls you near
When he says the words you’ve been needing to hear
I’ll wish I was him ‘cause those words are mine
To say to you ‘til the end of time

Yeah, I will love you, baby, always
And I’ll be there forever and a day, always

If you told me to cry for you, I could
If you told me to die for you, I would
Take a look at my face
There’s no price I won’t pay
To say these words to you

Well, there ain’t no luck
In these loaded dice
But, baby, if you give me just one more try
We can pack up our old dreams and our old lives
We’ll find a place where the sun still shines

Feedback is adored.

May you always find your smile.

Last updated December 08, 2015

Deleted user December 07, 2015

This. All of this: "She is the center of my cosmic eloquence, and I am but the feathered quill which is to say I am her delicate instrument. She is inspired beauty. I am her scribe."

Love it.

LoveSuicide Deleted user ⋅ December 07, 2015

I am deeply honored you feel that way thank you so much for the feedback. Aw. Too kind!

Deleted user LoveSuicide ⋅ December 07, 2015

You're very welcome!

LoveSuicide Deleted user ⋅ December 07, 2015

Psh. :)

Jafael December 07, 2015

Both sad and lovely. Is this a love poem, or a loss poem. I can see it both ways.

LoveSuicide Jafael ⋅ December 07, 2015

Aw, thanks, Jamie! Hmm..

I'm wondering which you think? I don't like to tell people how to read what I write!

Jafael LoveSuicide ⋅ December 07, 2015

I truly read it both ways. Therefore, I suppose my leanings would be informed more by whatever kind of relationship I might be experiencing at the time. If I was feeling loss, for example, I'd see more sorrow.

You do seem to like a hefty dose of ambiguity in much of your recent writings. Is that intentional? As in you set out to achieve that. Or is it expressional? As in, you achieve that because it is where you are right now.

LoveSuicide Jafael ⋅ December 08, 2015

That would make sense regarding sorrow and loss given the climate of your life reflecting or rather impacting the read.

I've kind of always liked ambiguity in writing. Did you think I was more direct at one time?

Jafael LoveSuicide ⋅ December 08, 2015

Yes, I think you were more direct once. Though you have clearly striven to increase your skills with ambiguity. You wield it well.

LoveSuicide Jafael ⋅ December 08, 2015

Thanks. Hmm.. I can be direct when highly emotional that's for sure. I think I enjoy the narrative to be open and mostly have for a long time. It's all about the reader for me.

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