I wonder what it is that you see

every time you look at me.

My eyes, my smile, my smooth skin,

my small thin body and my long hair

make up this specter that you behold.

Do you see the sadness that lingers

as my eyes look carefully into yours,

drinking in all that it can?

Do you sense the gentle flip-flop in my heart

as my fingers slide across your features;

Your crooked nose, your soft wispy hair,

the subtle beauty in your eyes,

asking you yet again to tell stories

about you and your past?

Do you sense the ghost of a being

that I once was

in spite of my bright lackluster eyes

or seemingly guileless smiles?

I am but a ghost,

a measly being who does not exist

if not for you, for this.

This semblance of an existence

I have succeeded in putting together,

for the charade of life, of living,

falls into pieces now--

made brittle by the essence of your elixir.

If not anything else,

then what else would I have become?

In my solitude, I await

for the darkness to reclaim

this specter that I am

as I fade into nothingness

yet again.