Ghost Boy

“Someday, love” 
The wind whispers 
Winding through trees. 

Inconsequential words
Watch them as they go 
Twining around trunks 
And running along paths 
Swinging on monkey bars 
And hiding in cracks 

Somedays I go outside 
Sit on the worn wooden benches 
Painted teal with 
Decaying promises 
And watch them 
Sometimes I send out a few words of my own 
Calling out names 
Of people I don't know 
That never answer 

He exists here 
But whether he knows 
Is a mystery 
Better left untold  
For his trees have been cut down 
His childhood throne usurped 
His knees are scabbed and sore 
But never will his blood seep into Earth 
I miss him 
So 
Goddamn  
Much  

But whenever that feeling grips to my bones 
Threatens to turn marrow into dust
The words fly by again 
Someday, 
They say 
Someday, 
They promise 
And I now have a habit of lying 
Down  
When these words gallop by us 
Because I know I’m falling 
All
Over 
Again.