I never forget a face.


I can never let go of who

smiles the widest, of who

cries the hardest, of who

shouts the loudest.


A lifetime of eyes can never haunt me

as much as your liquid melancholy can.


Our DNA shares the same

shade of blue, the same

stain of depression, the same

shock of mania.


Your eyes stare back at me from my own head.


The cemetery does not

hold your spirit, does not

keep you captive, does not

house your ghost.


I find you in the car that used to be yours.


Your gaze follows me along

the bustling streets, along

the winding back roads, along

the wooded dirt paths.


Your eyes are the ones I see in the passenger seat

in memories I'm sure you don't remember anymore.