November came,
Took my by the hand,
And lead me down
To the graveyard.
“you will meet love,
but first you must meet loss.
we are going to sit here,
until the ghosts that haunt you,
melt down into the snow.”
I felt the tear,
Roll down my cheek,
And in the stillness
Of the seasons first snowfall,
I understood the ache of longing.
there is someone,
or something,
i am meant to find-
they are out there-
and i am here,
shivering,
and alone.
waiting
for ghosts.
From there,
We wandered down
The streets of Whyte ave.
City lights and nostalgic awe.
Hunting ghosts down the alley.
I could feel, whispers,
Of a second chance shining through.
Never finding what i was seeking,
But always ending up
Exactly where i needed to be.
Alone,
but never alone.
Haunted,
but always at peace.










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