This shadow is tailing me,
A brightly coloured figure, I see her,
with side glances, flitting in and out of my vision.
Moving from side to side, with comforting ease,
to the music of yesterday, music I loved,
And she giggles, a hand guards grinning lips, mockingly,
Peachy complexion, cheeks flushed with rose tinted dew,
Hair dancing loosely in thick, dark waves
My own face hangs long with a question mark.
I try to return to her, but I am coated in cling film.
Pressing my hands against hers, I feel her warmth against my icy cold,
But I cannot truly push through, I cannot go back.
Pushing my nose against a barrier, condensation sticks in bubbles,
She won’t let me through. I am merely a flagging extra limb,
Yellow and diseased, an extension of her now detached.
She the animated ghost.
I look closer.
Her eyes are dead too,
Burnt out centres, like stubbed cigarettes.
Her eyes are my eyes.