Every lovers lips reminds her of him,
Every time she screams a name, it’s his,  
Every time she closes her eyes she returns to his safe embrace,  
Every man she meets cannot match the ghost she loved,

Each lovers touch reminds her of his soft caressing hands,
Each face is a mask alike her, but each she unveils she cannot find him,
Each time she closes her eyes she returns in dream to him,
Each time she awakes it is to the nightmare of her reality

Every lover she finds cannot see the tormented soul through her mask, for she wears it too well.
She does not want their pity, but she prays for help.
She longs to return to when everything was so perfect and safe with him,  
She screams silently and cries a river of stars in the blackness.  

She longs for his touch; when he would cup her cheek in his hand and rectify all wrongs.
She longs to lose touch when she stared into his eyes and him back.
This ghost anchors her to the past, making all lovers wilt and crumble like blackned roses in her hand
Her wrath replaces her love, for she is numbed by the pain and made insane by the torment.  

sometimes she wish's her dreams could be real; to stay in the warmth and feel the feverish euphoria she remembers so well,
She does not visit his grave; for she always smells his scent on her old clothes, and see's his reflection in the mirror
Her eyes like her heart grow cold and sharp from witnessing the ease of which the boy who could not say those three words she so desperately desired, lives and loves.