ghosts

its not that theres a ghost of you
but i seem to sense some force of you
i wonder if i seek to shed you
in some permanency and by leaving
by recreating
im dissolving you
visibly feeling you disappear
but little remnants pop up and i stop
i stop
but i start
i start to stop the stop
because i just dont want to stop anymore.

and maybe these are the lasts thoughts we'll share
maybe these times are the final caresses of my memories
and the rest shall be buried, with the ghosts
buried with what ever else ive put down
pushed out and away from any space conducive to containing these thoughts.

I have changed.
it is apparent as i rearrange and renovate and prepare for a newness.
my past has ended and my future has already begun.

i open my arms and feel the most comforting reassuring sense of tangible reality.