The ghost you left behind
still wakes up
like they did before you left.
They still walk to the bathroom mirror
and ask their reflection what to do.
They sit down for breakfast
and still ask if you want some,
as if you could still reply.
The ghost you left behind
takes up a spot on the city bus
and a bed
and a home.
You left them there
in your image of imperfection.
A speck of dirt
on the mirror of time.
©a.l.melton
A