Why do I still dream about you?
The memories are so far away
but they still possess me.

I wish I could just let go
and forget.
I almost wish the end was bitter,
so I had a reason to resent you.

I still love you.
It's an old and forgotten love,
but it's there.

It's in every green forerunner,
every time I hear that song,
when I see the ocean,
when I dream.

Constant reminders that won't let me forget.
They won't let you fade.



My love for you is like a soul,
stuck in the in-between.
I want my love for you to die,
find it's peace,

but it won't.

It needs a home,
another place to reside.
It's still there,
floating,
waiting,
for a vessel.

I don't feel like it's apart of me,
it's a separate entity,
but it enters my body
unceasingly,
without warning.

When it leaves,
it leaves behind a searing emptiness
and longing,
my eyelashes wet.

It hovers above my head
before it goes back to it's hiding place.
In the waves,
in a song,
in my closet.

It will soon creep out
and flood my dreams again.

I fear I will forever be haunted by our love.

Close my eyes
sleeping
lost amid
drifting  sand
I see a hand
can't understand
time softly
whispering in silence
from the far side of the moon
a gated tunnel
beckoning
I am haunted,
I am wanted
a ghostly shadow
peering in,
glowing skin
so I,
dream of you

I dream of you

I dream of you
.... again.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

It was a tapestry of white tusk ivory, tints of red smoothed
through it, like veins of death still lingering from the life
that was ruptured from its being.

the shimmer in this lake of reflection was almost as if one
was gazing at oneself not an impression, or  a blank slate,
but as if out of body looking inward.

Mesmerized by the opposite I look upon, tempted to touch
upon my own symmetry I linger towards but I grasp upon
frame and even though smooth contours my palm bled
lingering on the composition of its purity I watched.

Wiping on the smear now non corporeal, it seeps downwards
fading into the ivory not so pure as before. Now more crimson
than what I had glanced on when our eyes first became static on
this river of flowing imagery that now seemed more distorted.

I would sit there just talking to myself or my other half a
representation, a residue of what I see myself as within.
But each day I would grace its elegance with my palm,
what was pure now inflamed with my essence and it drank.

Speaking to me urging just another palm to settle its hunger,
I was listening to myself telling me it was ok. So weak barely
my eyes can see the image of myself. Moving towards me, I
must be vague in what I am sensing as it holds me closer still.

Awoken I am in the dark, I speak but hear only repercussions
of how far my voice lingers around me. Seeing a glimmer I
tread carefully towards this flicker to find its the mirror
and I'm within its grasp. The ivory now purest white once again.

"Why would you do this to me, a voice answers out of the
abyss "to be released from where I once was to this reflection
of where you were then, Tears fell into oblivion, as she walked
away and then the hunger started once again.

On occasion you can find me
lost in lonesome corridors
cleaning bones out of closets
wandering down winding hallways
with faint and foggy memories lining their walls.
Amongst boarded up, locked doors,
few remain open, awaiting guests
in the dusty space I have yet revisit.
I wonder how I wound up in this haunted home...
My home in fact, though I often don't recognize it

Today I spotted
a disfigured man
by the lake.
His right hand
in a soiled
bandage loosely tied.
Left eye missing -
I dared not
uproot his repose.
I feared for
him so frail,
Beside black water.

Today I spotted
a disfigured man
aboard a train.
Earphone hung from
melted plastic ear,
does he listen?
He smells foul
and looks unblinking -
a commuting ghoul.
What station can
such a man
find his home?

Today I spotted
a disfigured man
at dinner alone.
His teeth rotten
with gums bleeding -
drinking soup slowly.
Waxy red blood
staining cheap napkins
He doesn't care.
An omnipresent reminder
that no man
survived a week.

I saw you leaving, I saw the light go out.
Now, My house is haunted by wrong desire,
And on my skin is left the scent of betrayal.

For every one of your depicting lies the truth lay underneath it.
paint me a portrait of how happy we were supposed to be,
An oil paining perhaps of how our forsaken  lives were seen as mellow gold.

A painful affair,
Ghost lover extrordinare,
Our fate was never bound to live forever,
But, with you I would've together.

The stars were up above in your eyes,
Beneath the clouds of an October night,
I saw you on the side walk bleeding,
Sickened by the thought of leaving.

From that dream I awoke to find that you were no longer sleeping by my side,
But my dream had become a reality,
And you had really left me.

My house is haunted by the ghosts of you,
More than one, more than a few.
I sleep in a bed that's too full to move in,
But everyone else sees it as empty.
They don't know how you scarred me,
How your ghosts will always follow me.

Goodbye,
Goodnight,
I won't be sleeping tight.

the yellow air before a summer storm
the bright light behind the houses on the bridge in the morning
listen to the world work its jaws by your ear
do not hear. just listen

the empty rooms are stuffy and filled with dread
like a fruit sitting in the sun
and bright and dark all at the same time
like a fallen fruit swarming with ants
like the inside of a bomb
the doughtnut-shaped spaceship they found in A L I E N
or as simple as a reminder
a post-it note taped to the wall
with a dead friend’s phone number written on it

a house filled with light
an all-natural light sponge
a must odour
feel it on your back
smell the carpet
smell it like kindling

like a fruit sitting in the sun
heavy and full of dread
smell it, almost overripe
it may not taste good now, but
you have to eat it before it goes bad

sell that ******* house

You cannot haunt me anymore
You threw me away
I ran back
You threw me away
I ran back
You threw me away
I ran back
You threw me away
You ran back
I threw you away
I told myself I was done with you
That I didn't need that abuse
That I didn't need you
But then I thought I did
So I ran back
Oh **** was she ******
And I was ****** at me too
After all I went to someone
Who has done nothing but hurt me
Searching for solace
Then I threw you away
I deleted you altogether
But there's still times when I hear that
******* song
And I can't help but cry
There are times when I see a car
That looks just like yours
And I can't help but wonder
This isn't a love poem by any means
You're the one thing I hate
But you're a ghost of my past
I thought I had dropped
Yet find myself still hanging on
Why the **** won't you leave
Me alone
You don't care
And I don't want you
So if your God is real
May He grant me some solace
And rid you from my mind
Because for the last time in forever
Will the ghost of you
And your false declarations of love
Haunt my ****** up as it is
Soul

Hopefully